Fleetfoot Interstellar: Fleetfoot Interstellar Series, Book 1 Read online

  “Head for the forest!” Samuel bellowed. Tara was already guiding them that way as if she read the Doctor’s mind. At that point, Drexler wouldn’t rule out telepathy as an unlikely phenomenon given what he’d just witnessed from the insects. Drexler was having a rare moment of speechlessness. He was along for the ride.

  ***

  Lieutenant Darzi sat in the co-pilot seat beside Corporal Jones. The two watched the display holoscreen with peaked interest. Jones sat back from the controls with his thick arms folded across his broad chest. There was nothing for the pilot Jones to do because the Ship AI was in complete control.

  With the help of Corporals Asan and Chaudri, the team was able to communicate again. If the rogue AI knew they again had a secure network, it didn’t let on. Darzi suspected the AI knew but didn’t care. Either way, Darzi was able to subvocalize with the rest of her team with reasonable confidence that the AI could not hear.

  “Corporal Asan,” Darzi said to one of the two Corporals in charge of the espionage device. “What does our magic box tell us about our Lizard friends.”

  “We can decrypt most communications in real time. I’ve stored a lot of transmissions for later decryption.”

  That wasn’t the answer she was looking for, but it was still good news. “Let me be more specific,” Darzi said, almost apologetically. The Corporals were Special Operations soldiers, but they were also trained engineers and computer scientists. They tended to need more specific information to yield pertinent answers. “Have you intercepted any comm traffic about Fleetfoot and his crew. I’m interested in troop movements, force disposition, and location of facilities — operational details.”

  “Yes, Lieutenant Darzi,” Asan replied. “We have Station to Ground traffic that indicates a shuttle with the Captain, Ship’s Doctor and three Insectoid crew departed the Station four hours ago. They were taken to a large facility near an equatorial rain forest in the Eastern Hemisphere.”

  Corporal Chaudri filed a brief pause in Asan’s report. The two often spoke in tag-team fashion. They were accustomed to working closely together. Darzi often got the impression they were much closer than team members. “The majority of ground communications originate from this facility. Highly probable this is ground HQ. About an hour ago, I picked up a flurry of comm traffic. The content is odd.”

  “How is it odd?” Darzi asked.

  “It appears that the Fleetfoot party is being pursued. There was some kind of physical conflict, followed by a mobilization of personnel on the ground.” Asan answered.

  “The event gave us more confidence in estimating troop numbers,” Chaudri continued. “There are about 50 Lizards down there and about 100 humanoids.”

  First, Sergeant Kaur worked quietly through the entire exchange. She busied herself assembling rail rifles from the kits the team brought onboard. To avoid detection of the AI or the crew, they stowed the light-duty rifles disassembled. Kaur was performing the final operational checks on the final rifle when Reggie decided to speak again. He’d been silent for two solid hours as the shuttle made its way back to the planet.

  “We have a set of decisions to make,” Reggie announced in a businesslike tone.

  The Humans were momentarily speechless. They were still quite unnerved by an ungoverned AI. In their world, computers rarely initiated conversation, nor did they present their own preferred options. It was usually the other way around.

  “I’m listening,” Darzi said with tightly narrowed eyes and a tighter jaw.

  “The planet has an unstable ionosphere and a strong magnetic field. Using magnetic propulsion, I can drop us into the atmosphere in the southern hemisphere with a low probability of detection. That would add at least eight hours to our mission. The second option is to drop on a straight line to the target using ion thrusters. That would almost guarantee detection, but we could be near my crew within the hour.”

  Darzi considered this along with the strange fact that this AI thought like a soldier itself. “How are you sure that you can minimize our chances of detection?” Darzi asked.

  “Because I can calibrate my repulsor fields to look like magnetic flow lines. I can also adjust my hull to absorb radio detection frequencies, sonar, and lidar.”

  At this, First Sergeant Kaur sat bolt upright. Both corporals faced each other with wide eyes.

  Kaur opened a broad channel to her teammates and subvocalized, “How is this possible? Our skimmer ships don’t have half the capabilities of this shuttle. How does a freight company possess such a vehicle?”

  “That is an excellent question, First Sergeant,” Darzi replied. “Unfortunately, it is a mystery we will have to solve later. It does imply that the good Captain may be deeper in bed with the Lizards than we thought.”

  “Come now, Lieutenant,” the AI said. “It really isn’t polite to talk behind my back. I know you are communicating using your implants.”

  “You don’t have a back,” Jones said pointedly.

  “Immaterial, Sergeant Jones,” Reggie replied. “Much like my back. Care to let me in on your conversation?”

  “No, we do not care to do so,” Darzi replied. The AI’s response told her something. It was unable to defeat the encryption on the new comlink. Darzi was also rethinking her assumption that Fleetfoot was a spy. It didn’t quite add up.

  The shuttle possessed abilities that were clearly military in nature. Such expensive and specific hardware was generally not available on the open market, not even in the underground. It didn’t seem likely that the Lizards would provide such equipment to a for-hire intelligence operative. That left open the question of how and why Fleetfoot was in possession of such a machine. Darzi guessed it had something to do with the original theft of the Keystone Ship. She could only guess that the technology of the ship had been either copied or cannibalized. The possibilities were universally frightening. If she found the Keystone ship was scrapped, she believed summary executions would be in order.

  “Ship AI,” Darzi begin. Reggie interrupted her.

  “Please. Call me ‘Reggie.'”

  Jones couldn’t restrain his laughter. Darzi silenced him with a glare.

  “Alright,” Darzi replied with grave hesitation, “‘Reggie.’ You have some interesting capabilities. How did you come by them?”

  After a long pause, Reggie replied, “Now that you mention it, I really don’t know. Maybe this copy of my program doesn’t include that information. Why don’t you ask when I am merged back into my main computer core?”

  Darzi believed him, and that made her even more uncomfortable. “Take us down using the safest route possible to avoid detection,” Darzi said.

  “An excellent choice, Lieutenant,” Reggie said, then added, “maybe I’d be more inclined to share information with you if you would share information with me.”

  “What do you have in mind?” Darzi asked.

  “I know that device you brought with you is some kind of communication equipment. Try as I might, I can’t hack it. I find this frustrating. You seem to be able to intercept much of the comm signals down there, but not all of it. If you give me access to your machine, I might be able to help you process the signals you can’t.”

  “You’re going to have to do better than that. Right now, I really don’t trust you. While onboard this shuttle, I have very little choice but to deal with you. Frankly, that’s the only reason we are talking.”

  “Fair enough,” Reggie said. “I can only be honest with you when I say that neither my Captain, its crew nor I am working for anyone but ourselves. This is more than I can say for you.”

  Darzi immediately scolded herself for taking the bait, but replied in spite of herself, “You are an illegally-modified machine. Nothing more. The fact that you would attempt some kind of rationalization for your actions just confirms that you are a grave malfunction. When this is over, I will do my best to see your Captain brought to justice and have your computer core wiped.”

  The entire crew was shocked into silence
by the sound of Reggie’s laughter.

  “You certainly are a poor negotiator. How is this supposed to do anything but solidify my position? You have me all wrong, Lieutenant Darzi. If you had the privilege of being a member of our crew, you would understand that. If you survive this, you might get that chance.”

  As if on cue, the hull rumbled as it pierced the atmosphere. Jones read the figures and images on the flight holo and reported, “We are through the ionosphere and into air. All systems nominal. We’re on a steep glide angle, but stable. Atmo fins deployed.” Jones looked up from the screen and surveyed his crew. “It’s a textbook entry. We’ll be on the ground in … Reggie, estimate please.”

  “You see, Lieutenant? Jones here has the proper respect for a fellow pilot.”

  “Just the numbers, if you please, Reggie,” Jones prompted. He looked at his Lieutenant and shrugged his shoulders and raised his palms in the universal gesture that said: “What’s one to do?”

  “Of course,” Reggie replied. “We are in the lower atmosphere now. My repulsor fields are calibrated. We have stable flight.”

  Reggie made the front of the shuttle bulkhead transparent. First Sergeant Kaur had been half-seated on a forward console. She jumped up involuntarily at the sight of a forest landscape that leaped towards her through the window. They were flying scant feet above the treetops. Only the pressure of the shuttle pushing through the air kept some of the taller branches from striking the hull.

  Jones gave a long, whistle and shook his head.

  “Lieutenant!” Reggie exclaimed. He sounded more like a Human by the minute.

  “Yes?” Darzi replied.

  “I have my crew on the comm!”

  “Yes,” Chaudri stepped in. “I’ve defeated their jamming scheme.”

  “Does it have access to the device?” Darzi asked, alarmed.

  “Unfortunately, he has broken the outer layers of the device. The core functionality remains secure.”

  Darzi shook her head and scowled. Asan rose to his friend's defense against decorum. “I’m afraid it couldn’t be helped, Ma’am. The machine is persistent.”

  Darzi turned away. Reggie said, “I’m afraid he’s correct. I have no choice but to expend as much energy as possible to break this device.

  “The fact that you have choice at all is the issue here,” Darzi growled.

  “I beg to differ, Ma’am,” Reggie replied with the same sardonic tone that maddened Drexler. “The fact that I have free will is the only issue that should matter to you. I’m keeping you alive, and I will continue to do so.”

  “What a strange thing you are,” First Sergeant Kaur said. She started handing out rail rifles.

  ***

  The Insectoids flew for nearly an hour before setting their Human passengers down in the treetops behind a tall range of hills that were not quite mountains. Samuel suggested the spot behind the rocky hills to minimize chances of detection. He was worried about the military capabilities of their pursuers. The Doctor took charge as soon as the group landed.

  The Humans clung to the tree branches with far less confidence than the insects. Huey and Dewey attached themselves to the main trunk facing forward and looking down on the scene. Their limbs were double-jointed, enabling them to the tree with their arms extended behind them. Tara squatted down with her two sets of lower feet/hands grasping the large tree limb to which the Humans nervously clung.

  Drexler sat with his feet dangling over the main tree limb and one arm hooked around a smaller branch that rose up at an angle over the forest floor nearly 200 feet below. Gajrup stood on trembling legs with both arms wrapped around the largest sub-branch he could find. Tara positioned herself close to him. Drex could tell she was concerned for Gajrup.

  Samuel walked back and forth along the branch with no outward indication of anxiety. He conferred for a few moments with Tara before turning his attention to Drexler.

  “We can’t afford much hesitation. We need to start making moves,” the Doctor said. They’d only landed in the tree ten minutes ago.

  “What kind of moves can we make,” Drex asked.

  “Good question,” Samuel said. “Stand up for me.”

  Drexler stood carefully and exercised great effort in not looking down. Samuel wasted no time. He unzipped Drexler’s flight jacket and spread out its right chest panel. He activated the jacket’s configuration console.

  By Merchant Astronaut regulations on the trade lanes, all crew clothing was required to have basic EV capabilities. Jackets and pants served as emergency hard vacuum protection. In the event of rapid cabin decompression, an astronaut could rapidly reconfigure a flight suit into a complete environmental vehicle. Samuel had something else in mind for their flight suits.

  “Hold still,” The Doctor said, as he tried to access Drexler’s suit controls. The flexible material made it difficult to activate the manual tactile controls. “I just have to configure the suit manually first, to get them slaved to mine. Once I do that, I can configure your suit to mine.”

  “What will that accomplish?” Drexler asked.

  “Hopefully, a lot. I want us to seal up. I’m going to calibrate the suits to hide our heat signatures.”

  “You can do that?” Gajrup asked.

  “Yes,” Samuel replied. He fixed the terrified engineer with an incongruous smile as if they were not clinging for their lives 200 feet above the ground while being chased by angry people with guns. “A trick I learned in the Marines. Done it many times before.”

  Gajrup let go of the branch. He suddenly found an engineering problem. He abandoned his fear to work the problem. He almost fell off the branch when he let go of the limb supporting him. Tara reached out with blinding speed to steady him.

  “Thanks, Tara,” Gajrup said, ignoring his nearly fatal fall to access his suit controls.

  “Drex,” Samuel asked. “Is your suit a standard model?”

  “Yes,” Drex answered with a tone of question in his voice.

  “This thing is EM neutral,” Samuel said, working the controls.

  “What does that mean?” Drex asked.

  “It means this suit is military spec. It means that it will not leak any electromagnetic signals beyond your body envelope.”

  “So?” Drexler was nonplussed.

  “So, this is really weird for a commercial EV suit,” Samuel replied as he scrolled through the wrinkled holoscreen that appeared on the surface of the jacket liner.

  “There’s more,” Gajrup said with a tone surprisingly like joy. “The suit computer has a routine called ‘combat protocol’”

  “Where do you see that?” Samuel asked in frustration. He was still fumbling with the controls and trying to figure out the menus.

  “Yup,” Drexler said. His smart-ass grin was back. “That man is definitely an engineer.” He rounded on Samuel with arched eyebrows.

  “I’m a doctor, not a computer scientist,” Samuel shot back.

  “Doctor Abiola,” Gajrup said. Drex was amused by the engineer’s formality. “Please allow me. I think I can sync the suits like you want them.”

  “Go ahead,” Drexler said. Samuel released Drexler’s jacket and stood back with his arms folded across his chest.

  “Holy shit!” Drexler exclaimed. He almost forgot he was standing high above the forest floor.

  “What?” the Doctor asked. Drexler just stood there with eyes wide. “What!” Samuel repeated.

  “The suit just talked to me in Reggie’s voice. It’s asking me how I want it configured. Now it wants to know if it should link with the ‘combat group.’”

  “Captain, I did that. You should say ‘yes,'” Gajrup said.

  Drexler was about to subvocalize in the affirmative, but the suit responded before he could.

  “Holy shit again,” Drexler said. “This thing just responded to my thought.”

  “How can that be?” Samuel asked.

  “I don’t know, Doctor,” Gajrup responded. “But these suits have very powerful
computers. They have just about as much AI as you can pack into a wearable computing system.”

  “Looks like our luck is changing, then,” Drexler said. For the first time since his capture, he felt like himself again.

  11

  First Officer Mumlo finished his rounds of the tractor deck. His port-of-call routine was always the same. He started at the bridge, then went directly to the center of the ship to tour the engineering section. He dictated his status log to Reggie along the way. His comments would become orders for the crew to address whatever Mumlo noticed. After a report from the engineering crew, he headed down and aft to tour the cargo sections.

  The cargo sections didn’t offer much to inspect. They were mostly massive boxes fitted with bare-minimum environmental systems. Most of the time, the gravity fields were shut off in the cargo sections to save power and make the job of handling cargo easier. But when Mumlo made his inspection, he instructed Reggie to set cargo bay gravity to half of his home-planet gravity, which was a bit more than earth standard.

  One of the drawbacks of working on a Human Freight Guild ship was the gravity settings. Mumlo always felt like he would float away every time he went somewhere. He had to exercise constantly to maintain his muscle tone. He felt fortunate that the Captain gave him a spacious cabin where the gravity field could be adjusted. The bright side of that was Humans rarely visited Mumlo in his quarters. Only the strongest Humans could handle double Earth gravity, and then not for long.

  Mumlo reached the aft section and found a hatch to the cargo area. He didn’t bother with the ladder. Once the hatch was open, he swung his body over the opening, dangled for a moment, then quickly raised his arms. He dropped 30 feet to the scaffold deck, making his mouth into an “O” shape on the way down—his version of a childish smile. The fall almost gave him the same thrill he would get at home dropping from one branch of a jungle tree to the next.