Hope and Desolation

Two years before the launch of the starship Salient

Salinki Vergbreckon didn’t have a conscience. That might have bothered some, but after 10 years of killing it really didn’t matter to him. One day someone would kill him. He was certain of that. Oddly he almost looked forward to it. But as he completed inserting a small timed glitch into the environmental controls of the building he knew that it wasn’t going to happen today. Using muscles alone he slowly worked his way back up the ventilation shaft towards the roof. As paranoid as this fool was, he hadn’t been paranoid enough. Secondary systems, they always overlooked the secondary systems. Carefully lifting himself back up through the hole he had cut in the roof he paused for only a moment to use a chemical compound to reseal the hole. This was detectable with effort, but it was untraceable.

Finishing his work he carefully signaled for pickup. No one would ever know he had been there- except for his boss that was. The specially designed infiltration body suit he wore guaranteed no heat admissions, no DNA evidence, in short no trace. Whoever had ordered this hit would be pleased. His boss’s identity was a mystery to him. That was how Military Intelligence wanted it. Zero accountability for those pulling the strings but a lifetime of secret power for those doing the dirty work. It was a good arrangement.

****************** ******************** ********************* *********

A bird of some sort twittered in the distance. The fading sun burned a deep orange and red into the skyline just above the distant trees. A soft waterfall bubbled and splashed surrounded by a lush green tropical paradise. Jerome Droomers saw none of that. Sitting at his gleaming glass-like desk he was far too focused on his work to even pay attention to the illusion created in his office.

At one time the device in front of him would have been called a computer, but its relationship to the computers of the past was now distant indeed. It looked like a deeply tanned Indian women in her early twenties with jet black hair sitting on the edge of his desk in a very short hot pink mini-skirt- the sort that was designed to distract weary minds.

“Ok I want projections of crewing needs across the entire Fleet as currently projected at launch, mid mission, and end of mission..” Jerome ordered.

A chart with various crew categories appeared in the vicinity of the computers chest.

“Create 1st addendum of all short falls at launch, mid mission, and end of mission assuming normal training, promotions, and mortality rates.”

The computer complied. For a moment Jerome frowned at the information displayed in front of him.

“Create 2nd addendum listing the 10 most critical job functions that would fall below the minimum accepted numbers.”

Leaning back Jerome watched the tropical forest around him. The first entry on the list was AI Pod Specialist. It was difficult to find one human in a million that could perform the job function. And they needed enough for each major ship in the fleet.

“Transmit copy to Naval Logistics, Director of Fleet Operations and then CC to Admiral Garrett of Logistics and Planning for Fleet X marked BIG PROBLEM.” It always struck him as odd that they called it Fleet X. They certainly didn’t have the right consultants in when they created that name. “Oh and better send a copy to J D Droomers Inc, Board of Directors marked BIG OPPORTUNITY.” Jerome smiled, “I smell gold in them there numbers.” Dreaming for a moment of a huge government funded search for people who could be trained to be AI Pod Specialists he smiled. It would be another profitable year.

Standing up he ordered “Scenery off. Computer Off. Desk Off.” The holographic scenery winked out of existence and was replaced by the smog filled and dirty night skyline of the New York MegaCity. Lights blinked through the smog and sirens wailed in the distance. Even 30 stories up with the power off, Jerome could still hear the sounds of city life. The computer female was gone and his desk disappeared. The desk at least had only been composed of force fields. Truthfully though he didn’t have a clue how the computer worked, or even where it went when he turned it off. It just did its thing.

“Now I got to go out there” He muttered to himself, mentally preparing himself for what was going to happen next. Knowing that he had little choice he grabbed his air breather and put it on, testing it for a few minutes. It was said that out in the open people had been known to suffocate from the smog in as little as 15 minutes and Jerome wasn’t taking chances.

************** ******************* ************************ *******

A pair of dark brown eyes watched him as he left the safety of his secured office. Crouched back in the shadows of a darkened hallway she knew that if she made the least little sound he would know that she was there. And that was something that would be bad, very bad. The police probably wouldn’t kill her, but then they might just decide it was easier. Fortunately she was short and that made it easier to hide. Her matted dark blonde hair was tangled in a web going down her petite back. A brown halter top was wrapped around a dirty black tee shirt, and the dark green shorts she was wearing were really two sizes to small. But she took what she had to; it wasn’t like she really had a choice. It was either this or hunt for johns with money and that was something she refused to do. Disease, hunger, gangs, the police- all of it added up to more threats than she knew how to count. On the streets survival was always difficult. She just needed a few more moments…. And she got it as he disappeared into a subway chute that would deliver him to the nearest public transport entrance without having to brave the dangers of the outside world.

Survival on the streets was difficult. But the first thing it required was a safe place to stay, a warm place where the air was breathable. The first thing that she had learned on the streets was simple, no one was out to help you, so you had to help yourself. Part of her still shuddered at what she had seen.. what had happened. If it hadn’t been for the badge thing she had she would have been toast a long time ago. Her mother had given her that single gift a long time ago it had kept her alive through all those years.

During the day she found places to wander in, occasional soup kitchens to eat in. At night she took over the offices of the rich and powerful. Usually it was warm and most of the time she got in without being seen either by them or by others on the street.. like her. And she had a few friends though she had to concede to herself that acquaintances were a better description. Barter was the name of the game, and on the street they knew that she had access to stuff. Office stuff that nobody else did, stuff that also helped her barter for food and clothes.

Carefully she walked back towards the office from which Jerome had just emerged. With a skill born of long use she keyed in the codes to alter the voice she had heard and change it just slightly.

“Unlock door. Open door.” The voice, a perfect imitation of Jerome’s echoed from the device.

“Please provide retinal scan.” Came the reply.

Holding up the device she had she pressed another button and an image of Jerome appeared in front of her. This was the hard part. It enabled the visual recognition but the retinal scan would not reflect right against the hologram. But this was the true wizardry of the device as it somehow interfered with the retinal scan mechanism so that it transmitted the right scan no matter what it read. Of course Zeffa didn’t have a clue how it worked. The only school she had been to was the school of the streets. And that wasn’t the sort of thing they taught there.

A half second later she walked into Jerome’s office.

“Oh no” she said to herself as she realized that it had no equipment and no furniture that she could see. “It’s going to be a long night Zeffa.” Her stomach rumbled as though in agreement.

****************** ************************* ***********************

The next day Jerome’s nose smelled something the moment he stepped into his office. Outside the window of his office the swirling hazy grey smog that certified that it was day outside had taken over. Occasionally a sheet of rain beat against the window. Puzzled he looked around but other then the smell nothing looked out of the ordinary. Not that there was much to see with everything turned off.

Sniffing the way around the office he was puzzled.

“Desk on. Computer on. Set scenery to beach day 10. Scenery on.”

Instantly his shining desk and chair appeared shimmering like glass. His computer, looking like a middle aged oriental women in a pink bikini bathing suit, appeared at the edge of his desk. Suddenly his office was sitting inside a small open thatched hut opening out onto a small glistening white beach. The sand sparkled in the early morning sun. A flock of seagulls cried as they swirled and glided in the light breeze. A deep blue ocean quietly beat against the beach with that gentle murmur that belonged to a quiet day.

“If only I’d brought shorts!” Jerome laughed a little bit. The perks of a good job, though not even he was exactly sure what he’d done to deserve this. “Not that you can really swim in a hologram drawn on a window and walls.. but hey it would feel right.” As so much of his days were spent here by himself analyzing data and cutting deals he had always talked to himself. It helped fill up the emptiness somehow.

An unfamiliar hum filled his office. “Bootstrapping new security protocol. New Security loaded. Initiating override. Operating system Yai Danndell 5 loaded. Operating system switch complete.” Jerome twirled around at the odd high pitched words coming out of his computers mouth. Frowning he knew this wasn’t right.

Suddenly Jerome collapsed to the floor desperately trying to breathe, trying to hold on…. And his world died with him.

******************* ************************ *************************

While Admiral Garrett stood on the steel girded transport platform nearly two thousand meters straight up from the boiling waters of the North Atlantic he knew that his time was nearly over. There is a time when you know that your time is nearly over, and he knew that was the case. Soon he would begin the long transfer out to Ganymede Command Station and instinct told him that this time he wouldn’t be coming back. Old memories threatened to rise like ghosts from a very ugly past. The cost of building Ganymede Command Station had been high, very high. But without that, then the fleet he was helping to build would never have had a chance. For a lot of reasons both political, military, and economic those battles had…a male aide in a junior officers black uniform walked up to him interrupting his thoughts.

“Sir” the aide saluted smartly. Garrett didn’t know his name and really didn’t care to. They were all the same. “Incoming static communication from J D Droomers Inc.”

Cursing like only an old naval admiral can he dismissed the aide with a wave of his hand. Anything that J D Droomers said could wait. They were the most money hungry sharks he had ever met and he knew they didn’t play fair. Hell they didn’t even play, they just went in for whatever kill they could find. More than one enemy or competitor of J D Droomers had found out that it wasn’t smart to fight with the powerful and ruthless. Subtract either one and it changed the equation a lot. In between the numbers and the meetings he knew in the end that was the biggest problem that might very well face the fleet he was helping to build. Cooperate criminals had found their way in at every single level of the project. And to win he had to let them. That was the dam shame of it.

“Sir” the aide still hadn’t left or dropped his salute, “Your son Derringer Garrett is also requesting a live communication link.”

Snorting in disgust he looked the other way. He already knew what it was about. There was only one reason Derringer would call him. Garrett’s didn’t ask for help they fought for what they needed. Took what they needed. His son had always been weak more principled more likely to think than fight.

“Purpose?” to say that he didn’t want to talk to family was an understatement. Derringer was his son through one of the many women that he had… images of long ago encounters threatened to wash the present away. Both good and bad, memories were always hard to deal with.

“He is requesting an appointment to the Fleet X.”

Fortunately before he had time to think about that very much his transport touched down mere meters from him. He didn’t even look back at the aide and just left him standing there. Waiting would do them all good. He’d get back to them when he was ready to do so.


**************** ************************* *************************** **

The next night Zeffa was desperate. Out on the open streets of the mega city she was wrapped up in the smog as though it was a warm blanket on a very cold night. Except that it didn’t feel so warm. It was difficult to see clearly more than a few meters in any direction. Various colors of lights blinked through the night haze from different directions. A filthy rag she had found was wrapped around her face and provided some protection but deep down she had the feeling that permanent damage was being done to her lungs. It had been a long time since she had found herself this late at night with no where to go. And an entire night on the streets was virtually a death sentence.

Looking at the featureless shimmering security door in front of her Zeffa felt betrayed. The badge had worked for so many years. It was hard to believe that it would let her down now. But that is exactly what it appeared to have done. Though she had lost count she was fairly certain that this must have been at least the hundredth building she had tried to gain access to. Tonight however the magic that had kept her alive all those years was breaking down.

Earlier she had learned the hard way to never stay in the same place twice. The results could be especially deadly. One night and a few missing things and nobody usually even noticed. Two nights and the chances of being caught began to escalate rapidly. The memory of the last time the police had arrested her made her shudder- if they had found the badge her life would have been over. Fortunately in a twist of fate that she still didn’t understand they had neglected to search her. Two days later they had let her out of the jail cell they had placed her in without charging her.

Over towards her left she saw something and a large black dude appeared dressed in mismatched clothes and wearing broken pipes and other equipment scavenged as weapons or shields. One of the chain gangers though at the moment she couldn’t remember his handle.

“Whatcha doing on the streets crispie?” Crispie was what the chain gangers called other streeters that hadn’t joined a chain gang.

“Just fishing” Fishing was the street term for scavenging inside buildings.

The chain ganger just titled his head to the side as he slowly walked around her eyeing her carefully. “What’s a bitch like you doing unserviced?”

That was a bad turn of events, being serviced meant death or great pain most of the time. Bait for turf warfare, the target for initiation rites, or a sacrifice to some local police department that was giving them a hard time. The gangs serviced crispies for those things that none of the initiated members wanted to do.

“Whatcha want?” Zeffa knew that she had nothing to bargain with but chances were that he had heard of her and the things she had obtained in the past. Maybe she could bluff her way out.

The laugh chilled her to her bone. He was in charge and he knew it.

***************** *********************** *********************** *******

Pulling up in his unmarked hovercraft Fazzle parked it outside the building. Making sure his police issued combat suit was sealed properly, he did a quick scan, closed his mask and then stepped out onto the street. An anonymous message had promised him the chance to make a real difference if he showed up for an ‘important meeting’. Normally he wouldn’t have bothered to respond, but on the other hand the whole police thing was getting old and old fast. At one time it had seemed like an exciting choice for a job and his upper middle class family liked the respectable image. But after four months on the streets of a major mega city the reality was agonizingly different. The police didn’t serve justice or enforce the law. They were merely an instrument of the status quo to try to keep the lid from blowing off.

Walking up to the building he did a quick micro scan for hidden traps and then entered. Like the message said the security system was programmed to let him in. Once inside he carefully examined his surroundings and placed an emergency police bug on the inside of the door. The elevator chutes were directly across from the doors in the lobby. Subway chutes were on the right. Private garage chutes were on the left. The lobby itself was virtually featureless. Grey concrete walls and ceiling. Maybe 20 square meters in size. Stepping into an elevator chute a force field briefly surrounded him and then encased in a ‘glass’ bullet he was propelled to the proper floor at high speed. Again at the top he stopped to scan for anything out of the ordinary. But other than interesting power sources and energy signatures, there was nothing else noteworthy about the environment. There was nothing else to do for it but go over to the office in question.

Once up to the door he waited for a moment then decided that since he had been the one contacted it might be important to establish that he was in charge. It was psychological thing and Fazzle knew it. However before he could try one of his police issued override codes, the door slide open. And so he entered.

A beach scene met his eyes and a dead man near the center of the room. Good thing he had his combat suit on as it looked like the dead man had died from lack of oxygen. A computer of some sort, dressed up in a bikini was watching him carefully. But unless he missed his guess this dude had been dead since morning sometime, it hadn’t just happened. But that meant that the invitation to come here had happened after his death.

“Computer. Can you tell me who this is?” Fazzle asked pointing at the dead man.

“Deceased subject is inconsequential to matter at hand.”

“Computer. Can you tell me who killed him?” Might as well try the direct approach.

“That would be inadvisable. Protocols require saving life when at all possible. That information would put you at great risk.”

The right thing to do was to call for backup and then secure the crime scene. Contaminating the crime scene would not do much for his career. Not to mention the fact that as a cop with a combat beat to patrol, homicide investigations were not part of his duties. But someone had contacted him after the murder and that was why he was involved. Somehow he’d blame it on that.

“Computer. Did someone from this office contact me sometime after 10 this morning?” Nothing could be hurt by asking. Unless that is he triggered some sort of monitoring code that did something nasty. Not to mention that with this sophisticated a computer it would be difficult to the extreme to know if anyone was listening.

“Yes, an emergent protocol has required that I take action to save the life of Zeffa Danndell among other reasons….”

Fazzle had to stifle a laugh at that, something was just a bit wrong here.

“Computer. Explain.”

“There is a 92% probability that without rescue Zeffa Danndell will die in the next 24 hours. An overriding emergent protocol requires this unit to take action to secure her life.” An image appeared in the chest area of the computer displaying a rather ragged looking female. It was possible she was pretty, but until the rags she wore were burned and the dirt was cleaned away it would be hard to tell. Unless Fazzle missed his guess she had been on the streets for a long time now. The wild look in her eyes gave it all away.

****************** ************************* *********************

The journey was uncomfortable as normal but as Admiral Garrett watched the view of an earth that was getting darker and darker he felt a faint satisfaction. Score one for the good guys anyways. By this time one of the greatest enemies of his entire lifetime was dead. J D Droomers Inc, and to think that at the heart of the richest corporation on the face of the earth there was only a single computer and the richest idiot the world had ever known. Not that it would have been good to think that way before his death. Half the problems that fleet X faced could be traced to his profiteering. But the heart of J D was not the same as its brains. And its brains he could use.

An aide assigned to him for the trip was sitting up with the pilot and navigator.

“What is your name son?” the Admiral Garrett asked the nameless aide. Not that he cared but it felt awkward to just address empty space.

“Officers Aide Specialist Mandure, Sir”. Ok that was enough information.

“Find out for me if there has been anything on the news about J D Droomers, Inc. Then check to see if that company has made any purchases, sales, or transfer of assets in the last 10 hours. Focusing only on those purchases, sales, or transfers outside its normal business practices.” That would define a nice query to watch what the response was. It was important to watch and see if had left any nasty responses in the event of his death.

“Compose a message to Derringer Garrett, my personal com list has the correct address. Derringer what the hell are you doing? Do you think that success comes by just asking the old man! GROW UP. GET A JOB. I have reason to believe that your local Fleet X recruitment center might BE WILLING to test you for where and IF you might fit in. End message. Transmit when able.”

“Yes sir!”

“Compose a message to Salinki Vergbreckon, Fleet Intelligence. You’ll find his coded address locked on my personal com list. Access Code ADRAK-MULLINY-SEFRAK-TEBEL. Vergbrekcon, good to talk to you again. I trust you remember our arrangement last time we met? Good, I trust you do. Sometime in the next 2 cycles of the sun a Derringer Garrett will be taking public transportation from the Manila Philippines Mega-City area to one of the fleet X recruitment centers in North America. I want this transport to end up at a different location. He uses a model Cassey-Three personal assistant. Encode the Cassey-Three with the contents of what I am sending you. He needs to end up at the physical address I will transmit to you as part of this message. End message. Attach the encrypted file in my personal com list labeled JDBRAINS and attach to message. Transmit when able.”

“Yes sir!”

Then the Admiral settled back for the ride. A feeling of satisfaction overwhelmed him for a moment. When his son got to where he was going, he’d find out if the years of AI school had any meaning or not. After all he had wanted a job, so why not help him find an important one.

******************* *********************** ************************ ****

Herded into a back alley the chain ganger stripped off her clothes and threw a black wrap around mini-skirt at her. Zeffa trembled for a moment when she noticed the blood stains on the thing. The ground felt rough and cold to her bare feet. Wrapping a dirty black piece of cloth around her chest she tried not to cough. It was difficult to breathe in the smog and she could only hope that he would lead her somewhere a little safer. She noticed that the chain banger also had a dirty black piece of cloth wrapped around his chest, so it had to be the gang uniform. Prodding her in the back he moved her towards a door set down into the ground. An underground storage area of some sort from the looks of it and she hoped somehow that it wasn’t pitch black… but it was. Swallowing her sudden rush of terror she went in before she could be pushed.

****************** **************************** ******************** ***

Life changing moments, those times when fate hangs in the balance don’t occur every day. They also don’t come with bells and whistles and buzzers to warn you that they had arrived. But even so instinct told Fazzle that this was exactly that sort of day.. Fazzle stared hard at the dead man and then swiveled back around to look at the computer.

“Computer. Why should I take the risk?” his voice was hard and cold or at least it sounded that way to him. Jail time, his career, to take this offer was to risk everything he cared about.

“An analysis of your personality profile, past choices, parental upbringing, and your current environment lead to a near 100% probability that you will fight the system that you must abhor. The answer is yes, you will.”

“I’m not a rebel.” With some difficulty he kept his voice flat. He also left the word computer out so that he wouldn’t get a response. These things were programmed to only respond if you began a sentence with the word computer.

“No. You’re an idealist who aspires to improve actually as a reaction to…”

“Stop!” there wasn’t anyway he was going to by analyzed by a machine, though it appeared it was too late to worry about that now. “I didn’t say Computer.”

“My programming permits me much more latitude than you are used to. I am a fully functioning AI unit.”

Stunned Fazzle’s mouth dropped open. However, doubt persisted, just because something that can be programmed to lie says something, doesn’t make it so. The AI units were the heart of starships and the peak of what human engineering had produced over centuries of work on duplicating life and intelligence.

“Do you know where you are?” the computer asked.

**************************** ******************** ******************

To her left a male, dressed identically to her, was trying hard to keep from crying. Chances were he wasn’t even 14 yet but it was hard to tell in the darkness. On her right an older female seemed defiant but calm. Somehow Zeffa suspected that it was an act she used to hide her fear. There were others but it was hard to make much out. The smell of mildew and the dampness in the air seemed to override every other sense that she had. Occasionally she bumped into large cold metal pipes that seemed to line the room they were all in.

It was difficult to tell exactly how much time had passed when a hand grabbed her by the hair and yanked her forward. Reaching up she grabbed the hands that were holding her hair trying to relieve the pressure and pain. A hand shoved her through a rough opening and a boot kicked into her sending her sprawling on a rough cement floor. Slowly rising she tried to reposition the mini-skirt to cover herself again.

“Listen up! You are now the property of the 57th Street Gang. Your assignments will be handed out at daybreak. Each of you will have a handler. At daybreak you’ll head out, your handler will tell you what to do, what to think, what to say. Any deviation will be punished with death.” Vainly Zeffa tried to see the voice that was talking but could see nothing in the darkness other than vague shapes and shadows.

Sinking down to the floor Zeffa pulled her knees up towards her face and sat there. And so she waited for something to happen. There was nothing else left to do.

********************** ****************** ********************* ******
Leaving the office Fazzle retraced his way to the entrance, using scans and carefully watching for signs of traps or trouble. Part of him was happy and part was greatly troubled. There was no way that the death of someone as prominent as J D would not go unnoticed. But the AI claimed that it would take care of that in due time. Trust didn’t really come all that naturally to him, but on the other hand this time he was inclined to gamble though he couldn’t really say why. He had some contacts on the streets and he suspected that an old gang turncoat, Muffin Man, would be able to locate Zeffa Danndell. Of course on the other hand these things took time, and time was not something he had if the AI was right.

Crawling into his hovercraft he set it to roam the air corridors on a preset patrol route then leaned back in his seat to sleep for awhile. Everything always looked clearer in the morning.

******************** ******************** *********************** *****

Waking up from a nights sleep Admiral Garrett took a moment to stretch, then grabbed a food tray from an overhead compartment. These small shuttles were not big on comfort, but it was the best to be had on his three day trip to Ganymede Command Station. That was where Fleet X and the Salient were being constructed. The largest project ever undertaken by mankind was what the new service was calling it. Raising from his seat the Admiral bent low to avoid bumping his head, stripped, and entered the hygiene and shower closet. In a moment it was over, and then pausing to utilize the sonic shaver built into the thing he stepped out again. Put his uniform back on again and sat down. Modesty and privacy didn’t exist on ships like this, but after many years in the navy the Admiral didn’t even think about it anymore.

“Sir, Communication from Salinki Vergbreckon, reads as follows: mission accomplished. Target should arrive at 19:04:12 tonight.” The voice from the forward section of the ship was not that of his aide, so the Admiral assumed that it had to be one of the crew.

“Very well.” The Admiral acknowledged him. “Computer. Display messages to me.” A list of messages appeared on the air in front of him. “Computer. Sort messages by importance utilizing personal important algorithm.” The messages rearranged themselves. “Computer. Open message titled, ‘Problem: 5e9, The Salient”.

A nervous man in a white lab coat appeared floating in a weightless environment.

“The ship.. the Salient… it’s just to big… no one has ever tried to make a ship this big. Mathematical modeling aside, the complexity is just to much for us to handle. Without a better ships AI and a way to integrate it, it’ll take 50 years to get the ship to start moving much less to actually get anywhere! You asked me to report because you didn’t trust the Managing Construction Engineer for the Salient.. well this is it. This project is doomed unless you do something and do something quick.” The man looked around nervously then closed the message.

Mentally the Admiral downgraded his opinion of the man several notches. It sounded like he was treating this as though it was some sort of holo-novel. He never said that he didn’t trust anybody. Sighing, he wished for the good ‘ole days when he had a team of auditors at his disposal who would audit projects like this on an ongoing basis. But on the other hand that had always driven the cost of the projects way higher than was reasonable.

“Computer. Open the one labeled SOLUTIONS NEEDED from the Director.” It was time to see what his superiors had to say, and to let them know that he had it all under control.

************** ************************* ************************* ***

Morning dawned again Derringer Garrett thought to himself as he stood and stretched in the deserted bullet transport. Quickly he put himself through some paces to limber his muscles. A little sleeping on a hard seat had caused every muscle he possessed to cramp. Mentally though he cursed himself for not having checked where he was going before he boarded. Where ever the nearest recruitment center was, it shouldn’t have taken this long.

A voice from his memory drifted into his mind, A wise soldier always knows where he is he, and what direction he’s headed.

Get out of my head! Deringer screamed back frustrated. The voice of the Admiral, damn he couldn’t escape him anywhere.

Finishing his exercises Deringer snapped up and commanded “Computer. Casey-Three Power On.” Immediately he knew that something was wrong. Actually very wrong, his personal assistant should have appeared as beautiful white women with stunning blue eyes. The stunted dwarf with bulging muscles and a purple mustache looked like he was out of a 20th century comic book.

“Si anttbela reggiderittaik senndtreekup” the dwarf spouted at him.

“Damn” Deringer looked around the empty transport “Do you know how much that unit cost! Admiral are YOU LISTENING!!!” It didn’t even occur to him that someone else might have done it, he knew it was the Admiral. He just knew.

And then the doors slide open and he was somewhere looking at a small entranceway with a set of elevator chutes.

********** ******************* ******************** ******** ***********

Parking his hovercraft in the garage of a nearby apartment, Fazzle approached cautiously as he always did. The vacant lot was overgrown with dirty weeds and broken cinder blocks. Several makeshift tables were setup on the lot and a tall lean black man was puffing on a cigar surrounded by his ever watchful crew. Muffin Man was a well established business person on the streets and that fact had allowed him to escape the chain gangers so far.

“Stranger!” that was how Muffin Man knew him “Good to see you again! What brings you down my way?”

“Muffin, how’s business?” Fazzle knew that a little small talk was a prerequisite. If he rushed in everyone got nervous and would just disappear onto the streets.

Muffin Man sighed, “Not good. I lost my best fisher!”

“Oh?” he tried to feign interest.

“Ya, alls we found were her clothes and this.” Muffin Man plopped something into Fazzles hand.

Turning it over in his hands he saw that it was a small badge with the words Yai Dandell engraved on the back.

“Doesn’t look like much” Fazzle commented. It was an impulse but somehow he wanted it. Which meant it was bargaining time, so he handed it back to Muffin.

“Its.. electronic I think. Might be worth a fortune to the right person.” Muffin Man commented dryly.

Fazzle looked up into the smog hovering above their heads and shrugged his shoulders.

“Look “ Muffin Man leaned close to Fazzle to whisper into the ear vent on the side of his mask, “This fisher… Tangle we called her… she could do things.. get things.. that no one else could. Now at first I thought she was selling” Selling was a street term for selling sex for stuff, “But word is that she could get into ANYWHERE. And I think “ he held up the badge and waived it in front of Fazzles face. “This is how.”

Suddenly something clicked. Zeffa Danndell and a badge labeled Yai Danndell. A street person somehow being inside a high security building.. that was what the AI at JD’s office had showed him. Most of the time finding someone was not that easy. Thousands of streeters roamed this section of the Mega-City. Most of them would live and die without ever being noticed by the law.

On the outside though Fazzle showed nothing, “And I care.”

Muffin Man settled back with a hurt expression on his face, “I show you the best TREASURES available ANYWHERE… and YOU insult me!”

“Well” Fazzle turned and studied Muffin Man’s scarred face “Maybe I’m interested. Got anything more?”

Tossing the badge to one of his goonies Muffin Man shrugged “One of the gangs swept up a lot of crispies last night. I think something big is about to go down.” Then as an after thought he added “Probably got Tangle.”

“Anything else?” Fazzle patiently asked.

Muffins Man dirty grey eyebrow raised slightly “And whatya offering?”

“What do want?” Fazzle played Muffin Mans game.

Coldly and without emotion Muffin Man replied, “Get back my fisher and we’ll call it even.”

Laughing Fazzle turned to leave- which got the desired results.

“Here I’ll throw this in to” and Muffin Man tossed the badge to him. Fazzle caught it by instinct.

“I’ll see what I can do” It really was time to leave. Muffin Man really didn’t want anything other than the police to leave him alone or maybe get an edge if he really ever needed help.

Once back in his vehicle Fazzle saw an alarm going off. The police bug he had planted had detected activity. Someone else had arrived at JD’s office.

*********************** *************************** ***************

A foot slammed into her side, Zeffa gasped in pain coming instantly awake.

“Get up!” Around her she heard more cries of pain. But everything was still so dark she couldn’t see much.

“It’s a STORMING day!” one of the chain gangers cried, “Anyone that got hit with a foot come to the sound of my voice. Volunteers welcome.” That brought a string of laughing and cursing from what sounded like a number of other chain gangers.

Limping over towards the sound of the voice Zeffa felt beaten. Part of her wondered if she shouldn’t just lay still, but maybe out in the open she could escape. If she staid where she was she would die she knew that. These creeps wouldn’t provide food and every day she lay there she would just get weaker. Already it had been a few days since she had eaten. Maybe they would get fed, maybe.

************************* ******************* ******************** ****

“Come in Derringer” the voice of a computer greeted him.

“I’m expected?” Derringer didn’t move.

“A deal has been made.”

Still not moving he studied the fake beach scene in front of him and the dead man.

“Why?”

“Your unit offered the deal the moment it was turned on. I have accepted.”

“What deal?” Derringer quietly slipped a palm-gun into his hands. If there was trouble he wanted to be ready.

“Here is a message from your father.”

A hologram picture of his father in full uniform flashed in the middle of the room.

“You wanted a damn job. Now you’ve got one. The resources of the office you are in are being liquidated to help supply the fleet. As of now you are officially in charge of obtaining the AI unit that they have and preparing it for installation aboard a fleet vessel. Oh and if I was you I wouldn’t turn it down. You’ve got the training, now use it. Additional details will be transmitted to you or to your personal assistant.”

And with that the hologram switch off.

“Why should I corporate?” Derringer didn’t like this. It stunk of being set up. Not to mention that something had to be done with the dead man.

“Because of the man behind you.”

Spinning around Derringer dropped to his knees to fire but stopped when he saw a police officer in full combat gear. He knew it was already to late. A sound seared through his mind and stunned he just toppled to the floor. Helplessly twitching on the floor he could only watch as the police officer walked over and nudged him with his foot.

******************** *********************** ******************* ****

Pushed and prodded from behind like human cattle they emerged into daylight. Even muted by the ever present smog the light seared through her eyes and pain lanced through her here entire body. A sharp zap hit her from behind and as her muscles spasmed she went down hitting the ground in pain. Laughter echoed around them. Grimacing she forced herself up, pulling her skirt back around her once again. Someone else got zapped and went down hard. But for some reason that girl didn’t get up. Kicks rained at her from every direction and seeing blood Zeffa just closed her eyes. But after a few moments the pushing and prodding started again. Glancing back Zeffa saw a gang member ripping the mini-skirt off the dead girl and leaving her there naked and dead. Horror filled her mind and certain numbness. It wasn’t like she didn’t know this could happen, but she wasn’t ready to die yet. She wasn’t ready to die.

***************** ********************** ******************* ********** *

“Look your insane! I’ve go nothing to do with this!” Derringer protested.

“Weapon. Dead man. I know he was already dead.. but according to the computer you had every reason to want what only JD could offer. You’ve got the training, the skill, and the connections to use the AI!” Fazzle told him bluntly, “You killed him and were coming back to secure the goods.”

“I don’t know anything about JD! I never saw the place before!” Derringer protested once again. He was only barely keeping himself from throwing himself against the restraining devices that circled him in bands of white energy.

An oriental image of the computer bowed before both of them and then asked Derringer, “Do you agree?”

“Damn it all to hell! YES!” Derringer looked up into the ceiling “YES! Do you hear me Admiral!” There was no question in his mind what would happen if he didn’t agree.

At first Fazzle was shocked by the confession but then he realized that something was happening as all of a sudden the restraining device was neutralized and Derringer stood up.

The computer looked at Fazzle, “Derringer is now in charge. By an act of the J D Droomers Inc, Board of Directors.. of which only one is now alive, a man named Salinki Vergbreckon, Derringer Garrett is hereby hired as the Executive CEO of J D Droomers.”

Stunned Fazzle just stood there in shock wondering what was happening. The look of anger on Derringer’s face should have warned him but Derringer’s fist slammed into his jaw. The pain broke over him and the force of the impact threw him backwards and down.

Derringer reached towards him with an extended hand, “Truce?”

The computer spoke to Fazzle, “You have the override device!”

“Override device?” Fazzle looked at the computer blankly.

“Yes. I was not even aware of the existence of Zeffa Danndell until a few nights ago.”

“The women you wanted me to rescue.”

“Yes. Her mother, Yai Danndell is the mother of all Ships AIs. It was her programming and engineering skills that virtually created us and the interface that allows modern ships to navigate into deep space.”

Derringer looked shocked, “Her daughter? Yai Danndell is one of this centuries greatest minds!”

“The official story is somewhat different than the reality. The device that Zeffa had uploaded the truth into me when she used it to gain access to these offices. Her mother programmed it to do that, and then disable itself when it had done so. Zeffa needs to be saved or else I will shut down and Admiral Garrett will never get what he needs for the fleet.”

Standing Fazzle began pacing, “To fast…. Why shouldn’t I just call for backup? Let someone else straighten out this mess.”

“I have correlated enough information from various electronic sources across the city and the information contained on the recorder of this device. There is a high probability that a gang war is about to start and Zeffa may be in the middle of it.”

That pierced through his confusion, Fazzle asked “What do I do?”

***************** ********************* *********************** *****

Frowing Salinki Vergbreckon watched what was happening carefully. At this point having secured access he could watch everything that was happening in JD’s office. The admiral needed to be made aware of this newest development and quickly.

The answer was quick and succinct secure Zeffa’s life, get the device that she had, and help them all get out to Ganymede Station with the AI unit. And he noted that his job was being transferred to Fleet Security. That was an interesting twist. His new identity would be Java Srending.

****************** ************************* ******************* ****

Flying through the traffic lanes Fazzle scanned for signs of large scale gang activity but so far could make out nothing. It was a large city and this seemed like a hopeless task. But suddenly he spotted signs of zapper fire and a fair amount of it. The homemade weapons were common the street and being easy to make were favorites of the various gangs. Pulling in closer he saw on his monitor that two groups of people were being driven together by zapper fire. They were clubbing each other and hitting, fighting scratching. It looked ugly and even as he watched he realized that another large group was being driven by zapper fire into the same fight.
“Damn” he swore on the inside of the vehicle. Where ever Zeffa was down there he needed to find her and that quick. Now was when he needed to call in backup. Tapping the communicator he keyed in the call quickly.

“Suspected Gang Fight in Progress. Backup requested.” The device would take care of coordinates and paging whatever officer was available. Now it was time to get down and ugly.

Setting his vehicle down, he sealed his combat suit and grabbed his shield. This time it was going to take everything he had.

******************** *********************** *********************

Intercepting Fazzles call Salinki Vergbreckon jammed it. Setting his own vehicle down, he pressed a button and a squadron of air seekers rose from a special compartment in his vehicle. The small balls powered by an anti-gravity unit would locate Zeffa Danndell quicker than any other method available. Broadcasts soon confirmed that Fazzle was fighting his way through the battle dropping people on both sides of the battle right and left. How he expected to identify anyone in the midst of that was another thing altogether.

In the midst of it all, Zeffa was fighting for her life. Sobbing as she avoided pipes and fists and feet she clawed and kicked and screamed knowing that this had to be the end. Anger overwhelmed at her at the utter ugliness of it all. Turning around she saw the gang member who had zapped her staring right at her. Yanking her hand back she thrust her fingers deep into his eye. Screaming, he dropped his zapper and went down. Blood covered her finger and she just looked at it uncomprehending. Suddenly a loud shot rang out. Once. Twice. More times then she could count. Cowering down on the cold street Zeffa covered her ears waiting for it to end.

Back out of sight Salinki Vergbrekon smiled. Murder was such a pleasant business. Fazzle finally got to the right place and reached down to touch Zeffa. Unable to process it she jerked away and then just fainted at his second touch.

**************************** ******************** **************

“Gentleman I think we have arrived.” Java Srending announced gesturing out the window port as they neared the Ganymede Command Station. The Salient was a beautiful ship so large it dwarfed comprehension. A shining perfect cube it shimmered and gleamed thousands of kilometers across in every direction. Alien script of some sort flowed across its side like a holographic image engraved in the night.

“No one knows much about the language. It was found in excavations of long dead civilizations in nearby star systems. But the letters spell out her name, the Salient.” Fazzle informed them all.

Several months had passed since the day Fazzle had found Zeffa. As normal she just hung towards the back scared of it all. For the moment the only thing she wanted to do was to talk to the AI. That was the only thing that felt right to her. For now the others just let her be.

“Once we land at the station, there will be a brief indoctrination. Then I believe that Zeffa has already been granted permission to train to be a AI Pod Specialist. Her aptitude is genetic in nature. What about you Fazzle? Interested in military security?” Derringer asked him.

Fazzle just snorted and then looked back at Zeffa sitting by herself, “Can I be tested?”

Shrugging his shoulders Derringer Garret answered “Sure. I wouldn’t get your hopes up though. Not many can become AI Pod Specialists.”

“I’ld like to try.”

“Ok” Derringer agreed “I’ll arrange it.”

“And Java Srending, I have orders to turn this device over to you.” Smiling Fazzle placed the device that had saved Zeffa’s life into Java’s hand. Without a word he just took it. “You might want to study that.” He told Java.

Looking back at the shining ship, Fazzle had the feeling that this was going to be home for a very long time.

********************** *************************** ****************

“Well we meet at last” Admiral Garrett stared at the man now known as Java Srending.

“We do indeed, sir.” The man was cold. There was not a trace of emotion in a voice.

“I want that device” the Admiral commanded.

The response was not good. “I think not. Now that I am here… I believe that Fleet Security could really use a couple of these.”

“Damn it man you know you can’t do that.”

“The situation has changed. Fleet Security needs devices like these to remain free of scrutiny so that we can do our job.” Java replied.

“You won’t get away with it!”

“I’m afraid I will.” Java smiled, “Once in deep space the situation is going to be changed. Your time and the time of the navy you serve is now over. We will be the real power on this fleet from this day forward.”

Before the Admiral could respond the explosive charges under his desk fired and he was blown backwards into a bulkhead. Hurt but alive Java waited for help to arrive. It would be labeled an accident and no one would ever know.

******************* TO BE CONTINUED in What Love Began Part 1 ************************

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