Spinward Fringe Broadcast 7: Framework Read online

  Over thirty percent of the population endeavoured to ascend to Eden, while over forty-two had paid their registration fee. Those were numbers he could live with and he knew that, in his absence, the mass slavery would continue. The ultimate quest to own what no one could hold in their hands, a place in paradise, would be undertaken by billions more.

  People who couldn’t afford to register robbed until they could and then worked themselves to the bone for penance. The ones with nothing worked the hardest, sacrificed the most, and he hated them more than anything he’d ever seen. They were useless as anything but workers, and he made sure they were pressed the hardest.

  Yes, he had fulfilled his mission. Yes, Eve would be proud. He surveyed the worlds under his control for a lingering moment, and allowed himself a moment of pride. Regardless of all his work, the changes he'd made, and the power he'd come to enjoy, to remain in that chair at the centre of Regent Galactic space was to be put aside. He was where Hampon and Eve could watch him, neatly out of the way.

  He had lost track of Alice completely, and after weeks of hoping that he'd glance some sign of her as he reconfigured the core Regent Galactic worlds, he found nothing. With the new Holocaust Virus trained to work in his stead, and the Victory Machine in the open, he would be a fool not to reach for a new destiny. Perhaps if he could not find Alice in the ever-expanding digital universe, he could find her in time. A person could not go swiftly backwards in a timeline, but it was possible to look, communicate, and to transport data both ways. If he could not find her using the means he had, he would bring her forward in time from where he last saw her.

  That pang in his heart was what drove him to finally let go of all the power he'd become attached to. His new understanding of the universe and sense of what must be would be concentrated on locating the Victory Machine and taking it for himself. "I will take it and reconnect with the networks of the universe, conduct existence like a symphony. Alice, whether as an AI or in person, will be at my side."

  In the weeks of existing attached to the vast Regent Galactic network, Gabriel Meunez had forgotten to watch over his physical wellbeing. When he finally did, he saw nothing but a wasted thing in a state of slow decay. His cybernetic mind had expanded outside of his skull, and pain wracked his joints from nanobot contamination. Blood toxicity overworked his biological maintenance implants, and he didn’t have long left. He could either move entirely into a computer system, or transfer as much of himself as possible into a form made specifically for his needs.

  He chose the latter, knowing that most of his personality had moved out of his biological mind, and into the mechanical. He sent a signal to a darkened gallery in the Kraken and watched as his new body was swiftly constructed. After only a few moments, the new framework, with cybernetic assistant nodes to increase his pace and depth of thought and several backup modules to preserve his being, was ready.

  The Kraken descended towards the city of New Versailles, its nine kilometre width casting a shadow over the forest of sky scrapers. In a quarter of a second all that was Gabriel Meunez was transmitted up to the gargantuan ship’s new Genesis Hall.

  Gabriel felt hollow at first, as if he were missing a critical element that made him who he was. All the information was there, he’d made the transfer to the bare framework that awaited him, but there was still something missing.

  He watched from inside as the materializer and nanobot systems initiated, creating flesh, supplemental bone, and sinew from raw energy. The second phase of his data transfer began as soon as his human brain was constructed, and the compressed image of his old human mind was transplanted. The connection between active cybernetics and living brain was made, and Gabriel opened his eyes. It was like taking a deep breath after nearly suffocating.

  The Lauren Star’s white light bathed the massive octagonal Genesis chamber and cast long shadows to his left. There were technicians waiting for him, and they helped him dress. In the polished deck he could see his reborn face, youthful and smiling. Straight white hair framed that comely visage and was long enough to tickle the back of his neck. His body had come out fit, sculpted to match the current style of taught muscle, and health. He would have to eat and exercise, do all the things that humans did. He would be as Alice was, dedicated to being connected with their environment in both ways, through the physical and digital.

  His servants helped him into simple leggings with a hidden emergency vacuum suit built in, a long tailed, loosely fit dark green shirt that tended to open at the front, and a green jacket that had no sleeves or sides. Two panels hung down to his shins in the front and it flared out into a wide tailed back. It was adorned with silver thread, like something the monarchs of old wore. When they had him dressed, one white suited servant stepped in front of him and unrolled a full-length mirror.

  “That will do,” he managed to say, though the words felt strange. It had only been weeks since he’d used a mouth to speak, but it felt like years and it would take some getting used to.

  He glanced around the room and smiled even more brightly at seeing all the identical faces. There were three identical men and four identical women, all of them version one framework constructs made to serve his every personal need. Looking past them, he looked to the stadium sized Genesis Deck, where twenty thousand framework cubicles housed silver skeletons, all ready to be born, all ready to serve in whatever capacity he desired.

  “Inform Command: we are to set course for Thamba, meet our new Caran Enterprises fleet, and then proceed to Pandem. We will make an appearance and begin tracking my target.” He passed his own orders to the Command level several decks down, but it felt good to announce his intentions. There was something particularly robust about filling the air with words that would change the universe.

  Chapter 3

  The More You Know…

  “Break’s over in fifteen minutes,” said Technical Crewman Sitte over Ashley’s work band. She was easy to work for, an issyrian who preferred to remain in the form of a human woman. Ashley had half a day with her crew of workers, or knuckle draggers as they had come to be called. They were moving components and high tolerance metal beams from the tall pile of salvage from the command ship they’d captured, the Enforcer 1109.

  The pieces were too small for the loader suits to bother with, but too big for most people outside of a vacsuit with muscle augmentation to budge. The work detail was all part of the Samson crew’s effort to mix in. The worst thing was, they all had to keep their suits sealed, showing no identifying features. Even though Ashley knew the air would be rich with the fragrances of grease, cheap burnt fuel, and garbage, she wanted nothing more than to retract her head piece and experience the open air.

  The sunlight gleaming down between the swiftly moving air traffic overhead made that freedom even more enticing. Stephanie and Captain Valance had a plan, however, and Ashley wouldn’t be the first to violate it. Hiding in plain sight had kept them safe from bounty hunters for weeks. There had been several breaches in their perimeter by people who snuck in to steal what they could carry, or to bag themselves a Samson crewmember.

  Ashley looked through the crack between the three metre by three metre storage crates she hid behind. The landing site Ayan had bargained for weeks before had become a city. Over two thousand people from the Triton remained, including most of the slaves they rescued. Staying in the Triton settlement was safer than wandering out into the dangerous shanty port. After being there for a few weeks, Ashley started hearing about other safe havens, however. Drifton was rough, a gutter by most standards, but she knew she could find work there, possibly get on with another crew, and it was a social hub. That was the kind of place where she could endear herself to people who would want her for themselves, new protectors.

  The thought of leaving the Triton crew made her heart ache, but as time drew on and she continued to fail at contacting the Trition’s main computer, it became more evident that her crime against them would get her kicked from the crew. As soon as the
y find out I’ve been holding master control codes without telling them for weeks, they’ll just put me off. Don’t blame them though, I should have told Captain right away, but there’s no knowing where Larry is. If he found out I blabbed about him and Citadel, he’d kill me in my sleep.

  Ashley used her head’s up display as an interface, gesturing with glances until she managed to open a secure channel to the Triton through the General Solar System Network. It was something she tried to do several times a day. She waited for the ship to reply.

  SPECIFIED RECIPIENT IS UNAVAILABLE, came the reply she had grown accustomed to. Ashley tried Larry.

  CREWMEMBER IS OUT OF RANGE, replied Crewcast after searching for several seconds.

  Ashley sighed and shook her head. Just as she was about to creep out from behind the crates, something in the corner of her eye drew her attention. A glance through the crack revealed someone in a black vacsuit looking straight at her. Without thinking she jerked to the side, hiding completely behind one of the storage blocks. Well, that’s not suspicious at all, Ashley scolded herself.

  She walked out of the narrow lane between the crates, struggling with the exit because her vacsuit had been inflated a little in some places to disguise her body shape, but managed to squeak out without looking too ridiculous. She looked around and didn’t see Jason. A hand on her shoulder made her jump.

  “It’s me, Steph,” the unmarked worker said. They were all in bright green suits. “You okay?”

  “Fine. Well, really sore, but okay,” Ashley said, relaxing a little. “Just hard to tell who’s who with all of us dressed the same.”

  “I know, but I don’t mind the work. This ‘different job every day’ stuff is clearing my head and getting me back in shape,” Stephanie replied. “What hurts? Anything serious?”

  “Everything hurts,” Ashley said, stretching. “I thought the muscles in the suit were s’posed to take care of all the work. I didn’t think this would be such a workout.”

  They started walking down a street that ran between five shipping containers that had become home to hundreds. Workers dressed in green were a common sight, and Triton security forces in black patrolled leisurely, holding rifles across their chests. Other numerous workers in grey or blue made their way around carrying tools and chatting in groups. Along the roadside, people on their days off and civilians went about their business taking care of children, chatting their time away, or playing games some of the former slaves brought with them. Dominos and dice were favourites.

  “Welcome to the world of the labour ranks,” Stephanie said. “Just moving those muscles of yours is enough to get you back into shape. Did you hear that Ayan started drilling with Oz and his troops?”

  “No, why would she have to do that?” Ashley asked.

  “I think she’s trying to slim down the hard way and training muscle memory,” Stephanie said. “Rumour is that that new body of hers has never jogged or marched in its life, so she’s trying to get it back up to her standards.”

  “That’s gotta suck,” Ashley said.

  “Sure, but I’d pay real GC to see her sweat for a while,” Stephanie chuckled. “I tried to catch them training outside the main hangar yesterday but just missed them.”

  “Do you miss it?” Ashley asked.

  “What?”

  “The military stuff, training, security and being in charge.”

  “In the mood for poking at open wounds today?” Stephanie asked.

  “Ohmigosh, I’m sorry. I was just askin’, I mean, I miss flying around, I thought-“

  “I’m just buggin’ ya,” Stephanie said, resting a calming hand on Ashley’s arm. “Are you really okay? You seem really high strung.”

  “It’s just,” Ashley scrambled for the best, easiest, most believable excuse, glad that Stephanie couldn’t scan her for signs of deceit. “Since we left the Triton things have been,” she hesitated, “wrong.”

  “We’ll get back up,” Stephanie said. “Don’t worry. Just take this duty rotation as time to think and learn about what’s going into that,” she said, gesturing towards the hangar doors ahead.

  They came through the side door of the main hangar. Ashley looked upon the Samson, where it rested in scaffolding. The frame of the upper hull was being rebuilt while crewmembers on the rest of the hull were getting it ready for its new skin. Uninsulated cables were being anchored to the finished frame down the length of the ship, while other crewmen welded plates of activated ergranian steel intermittently across the ship’s exterior.

  Two gutted ships brought down from the Enforcer 1109 were piled just outside the hangar. They had become the source of so many of their components since they were flown down, including new rotary engines for the Samson. They lay at the rear of the older ship, waiting to be lifted into place and wired in. Ground crews were pairing them up, welding them together with heavy bars and wiring them up so the power of two captured ships would become half the thrust available to the Samson.

  “Captain says they’re a week away from her first flight,” Stephanie said.

  “He said that last week,” Ashley sighed.

  “This time Laura and Frost are saying it too,” Stephanie replied. “With all this manpower, I think they’re right. She’s going to be better than ever.”

  “I hope I get to fly her,” Ashley said.

  “Who else would?” Stephanie asked, laughing lightly.

  “Break’s over,” announced their boss for the day.

  Chapter 4

  Limited Eve

  One metre by one metre doors lined the walls of the seemingly endless labyrinth of the Rasa Vin Hotel. Few of the doors to the tiny rooms were open. She was looking for one door in particular: 3570b. Someone was chasing her. She swore she could feel their eyes on her bare back right before she rounded the corner.

  The few transients who hung out of their holes to get some air turned their heads as she ran passed, half dressed and struggling to hold her jacket as she shoved her arms into her suit. The door she was looking at wasn't far off. Reaching it meant escape, and she'd be among friends again.

  An explosion of sparks beside her urged her around the next corner faster than the last, and she cursed the freshly washed, slick floor as she slid into a ladder.

  The dreamt impact jerked Eve awake. Her body was being held aloft by an antigravity field in a containment chamber, and she could immediately tell she wasn't connected to any of the systems around her. The chamber door opened and the field moved her out of the small cylindrical space where a pair of women in faded orange technician uniforms waited.

  The lighting was subdued but it still took her a moment to adjust. There were several rows of upright, cylindrical suspension chambers marked with red, green, and blue on the top. She remembered what the colour scheme meant from browsing through the ship's systems. A red designation meant that the occupant was suspended in liquid for long term, green was for shorter-term antigravity suspension, and blue meant the occupant was in accelerated recovery from a medical procedure. She looked over her shoulder as her capsule closed and was shocked to see blue markings. As it re-sealed and began self-sterilisation procedures, the markings faded.

  The absence of connectivity put Eve on edge. The two people that greeted her were a mystery. There was no way to look them up in a computer system, find out their service history or glean some sense of their personalities from personal data. "Where am I?" she asked quietly, as though it was the ultimate expression of ignorance. Eve felt like she was in the middle of a tug of war between fear and frustration.

  "You're in the Overlord Two's secure containment facility," one of the female technicians answered as she helped Eve into a white, fitted short-legged bodysuit made of a material she didn't recognise. "General Hampon's inner cloister."

  "What is this?" The frustration at having to ask was maddening.

  "It's a personal management suit. It'll change shape, colour, and temperature depending on your needs. It also includes all the computin
g devices you might need; it's standard on the Overlord. I'm Lina, by the way. General Hampon has put me in charge of your personal needs," she said as she helped Eve into a dark green jacket with long tails that reached so far forward that it was more like a skirt.

  "What has he done to me?"

  "He saved you. If you'll follow me, you'll be able to ask him yourself. This room doesn't allow communications with the outside so everyone in these capsules is protected," she answered as she helped her put low-topped boots on.

  Eve followed Lina down an aisle and when she saw the door they were headed towards she picked up the pace, passing the woman. The door opened to a room with a transparent wall opposite. The green and blue globe of Pandem dominated the view. A group of Regent Galactic destroyers passed between them and the atmosphere. She instinctively reached out to identify what she was seeing and find out more about her own location on the ship but found nothing to connect with. Her frustration began to grow into anger.

  The room was furnished with comfortable seating and tables. Some kind of waiting or observation room, she guessed. Eve called up an interface on the table and tried to locate herself, to find out why she was in stasis. She only had access to the older data archive. There was an incredible amount of knowledge stored there, but she had no way to see scanners, recent security records, or anything else she wanted at that moment. "Hampon!" she cried as she whirled about. Her mind worked to find a way to communicate with any system wirelessly by reflex.