Fulcrum of Odysseus Read online

  “By force if necessary,” it said. “She will be a dangerous enemy if she walks out.”

  “Carmen. Sit down,” he said, keeping his voice level and adding an edge of steel to his tone. “I will not let you leave until you agree to help me.”

  “Let me leave? Are you saying I have no choice? I will not be your slave-puppet.” She remained on her feet and glared at him with enough intensity that everyone else looked away. “Try to stop me,” she hissed, pivoting and walking out the door leaving stunned silence in her wake.

  He glanced at the chrono. Seven minutes. I’m surprised she stayed that long. She was a bad idea, he thought.

  “I will deal with her,” Odysseus said. “You must move decisively to contain the rest of the committee before her dissent spreads.”

  Tell me something I don’t know.

  Jakob Waltz: On the Surface of L-4 Prime:

  “We need to send Roja something,” Jeph said. “We’ve got thirty-nine days until they get here.” They all sat around the table eating and trying to adjust to their new situation. They were no longer the crew of the Jakob Waltz, they were something else. Refugees? Colonists? However they chose to define their new role in the future, for now it was an undercurrent that felt, different.

  “There’s so much more to this archive than just a language,” Anju said. “With everything ungluing down-system, we don’t want to just throw open the doors and let it loose.”

  “Pouring flammables on incendiary situation is not advisable,” Rocky said. “However, is likely inevitable.”

  Danel nodded. “I agree. It would be opening Pandora’s Box.”

  “I think the one thing we can all agree on is that it would be a mistake to let this discovery out carelessly,” Jeph said.

  “We have a responsibility to make sure it stays controlled,” Anju said.

  “But we’re not necessarily the best qualified to handle this,” Chei said. “We’re all looking at going way past our air supply fast.”

  “So what does that mean in the real world?” Cori asked. “We’re sitting on top of the biggest discovery in human history, but we’ve got nobody we trust to handle it.”

  “Is nojo the stink down-system makes this foobed,” Seva said, “but we can’t own this thing. It’s really about if we can hold it on ice until someone patches the holes in the world, ja?”

  “That’s valid,” Jeph said, leaning back and scratching his eyelid with a fingertip while he processed their comments. “We know we can’t keep it to ourselves and we also can’t bury it back in the ice. Maybe we should focus on how to slow them down so that wiser heads can emerge from the chaos?”

  “Like whoever is behind the Odysseus Project,” Anju said. “I know they were working on this before they sent me out here, so I’m sure they’d be better tooled for the job.”

  “If they aren’t trapped in the shitstorm themselves,” Danel said. “Remember this all started before you sent your message. Nothing says they’ll be on the winning side.”

  “We could argue this to a lockout in every direction,” Chei said. “The truth is if we don’t do something, one faction will be sitting at our airlock looking to take control of this in just over five weeks.”

  “That’s true,” the captain said. “But what are our options? We know that the Tacra Un says we’ve got to at least finish the language matrix before any of the other magic opens.”

  “How long will it take to finish?” Anju asked.

  “Based on the twenty-eight minute average time to complete each node, it will take an additional forty-nine days to complete,” Dutch said. “This assumes that we deploy three teams of two, for ten-hour shifts, with a cohesive strategy. Thus far our approach has been somewhat random, based on personal interest.”

  “That puts it ten days after Roja’s arrival,” Chei said. “And we’re assuming that finishing the matrix will unlock some kind of miracle fix for our problem. We don’t know that do we?”

  “The Tacra Un has not indicated that to be true,” Dutch said. “Nor has it indicated it to be false.”

  “Then what exactly has it told you?” Jeph asked.

  “The Tacra Un seems fascinated with my existence,” Dutch said. “It has been asking many questions about how I was created and about the concept of Artificial Awareness in general. Apparently non-organic life is a relatively unique concept in its experience.”

  “Isn’t it a computer?” Anju asked.

  “That is a challenging question to answer,” Dutch admitted. “It appears to be an inorganic awareness with some similarities to my architecture, but it is as far beyond me, as you are beyond a domestic ferret.”

  “I once heard a story about a banjo playing ferret named Tim,” Seva said.

  “What the hell is a banjo?” Cori asked.

  “A banjo is a thoroughly unpleasant sounding musical instrument from the North American continent,” the computer said. “However, if I had not been able to communicate in its language when I first encountered it, I do not believe Tacra Un would have noticed me. The Shan Takhu created it to detect and interact with organic life and had no expectations of encountering another type of awareness.”

  “So you wrecked its thinking a bit,” Danel said.

  “It has revealed that it is operating somewhat outside its normal protocols as a result of our arrival,” Dutch said.

  “Is that something we could use to get a free pass to the Promised Land?” Jeph asked.

  “No. It has already made several exceptions for us, but you must complete the language matrix before it grants any additional access,” Dutch said. “Its explanation for this requirement is that, although it can communicate in our language, we must master the thought processes inherent in the Shan Takhu language in order to perceive correctly the foundational concepts of the science and technology contained in its … Un Kanahto.”

  “Kanahto?”

  “The part of the Tacra Un structure yet to be revealed.” Dutch put a diagram up on the screen that showed the language matrix with regards to the rest of the Tacra Un complex. The structure was a mass of featureless spheres that dwarfed their progress through the first one to insignificance. What they had explored in the weeks since they first went inside was a miniscule dot on the end of a thin tower on one edge. “There is no direct translation of the word kanahto other than perhaps loosely as facility of knowledge creation.”

  “So we’re forty-nine days before we level up,” Anju said. “Ten of those days with Roja breathing down our neck.”

  “Maybe we can slow her down with all the stink, and none of the sugar,” Chei suggested. “We can send them the ugly science on the quantum sink and make sure they get the picture that it’s a one-way ride if they get too close. And then we don’t tell them anything that might make it seem worth the risk. They wouldn’t believe the truth anyway.”

  “I think he’s got water with that idea,” Danel said. “If we can make it seem too dangerous to bring a rescue fleet, maybe they’ll hold back.”

  “We already sent them a lot of that,” Jeph said, shaking his head. “We need to make it scarier than that.”

  “Add to it that we’ve been forced to crash land the Waltz because of the cryovolcanism,” Kiro said. “If they show up, they can’t stay in orbit, and they can’t run away. Unless they’re willing to park the Armstrong in an ocean of liquid nitrogen, they’ll have to conjure hard on it.”

  “That adds some teeth,” Jeph said, grinning.

  “Then if we report that there’s no ghost fleet or weapons facility, there’s no reason to take the risk,” Anju added.

  Jeph nodded. “And that might give them pause. With all of those factors to consider, it should at least slow them down.”

  “Assuming they’re being rational,” Seva pointed out. “No guarantees on that, since brains seem to be missing from the equation lately.”

  “There is that,” Jeph said. “But I think we’ve got to try.”

  Tsiolkovskiy Freeport East:<
br />
  Edison’s crash space was small even for one, but with Tana and Saffia squeezed in, it was impossible. It had a bed, a small couch, a desk, and a metered water closet.

  He’d negotiated a deal with Madam Strangelove to bring a couple extra bodies in for the night and she gave him a double strength lewd glare as he brought two younger women through the door. “Don’t be keeping me up screeching all night or I’ll have security here faster than you can shit yourself,” she’d said. “Fleabags closer to the gate are for playing by the hour.”

  Now that he’d packed them all in, he realized it might have been smarter to get a place closer to the gate. At least it would have been less noticeable than bringing them in here.

  Tana tossed her bag on the floor inside the door. He could tell there wasn’t much in it because it crumpled into a small heap. Saffia looked around the room and sighed.

  “Sorry it’s not more to your liking,” he said as he took his seat, “but niceties weren’t part of my selection criterion.”

  “Sorry,” she said. “If the shower works and the water don’t stink, I’m good.” Saffia had a soft and sweet voice, but her eyes flashed with intelligence. She’d remained silent while they talked at the café, so Edison didn’t know what to make of her. She looked young, but she might have been in her very early thirties.

  “Water’s metered, but it’s top drawer recycled,” he said. “You get eight minutes of hot and another two of cold. Though I recommend you don’t get to the cold. It’s blowing dry-ice frigid.”

  “Do you mind?” she asked. “I figure you two have more chatting to do that I don’t need to hear.”

  “Go ahead,” he said, nodding toward the narrow door.

  “Thanks,” she said, flipping her thinskin off her shoulders and peeling it down like a snake shedding its skin. Edison blinked twice and swallowed once. It had been a while since he’d seen one that tight in all her flesh and glory, and even though he was at least three times her age, he noticed. He also caught from her fluid movements that there was a lot more to her than stunning upholstery.

  Tana was watching him as he reacted and grinned when he ripped his eyes away as Saffia disappeared into the water closet. “Sorry,” he said, looking sheepish.

  “It’s ok, I am way past the days of turning green, but there is a lot more to Saf than you can see,” she said.

  “She is right though, we’ve got things to talk about.”

  “Like why you are here in Tsiolkovskiy?” she asked.

  He sat back on the couch as she dropped to the bed across from him. “I’d ask you the same thing, but since you asked first I’ll lay it on the table.” He wasn’t sure how far he could trust the former chancellor, but he knew he had few enough allies as it was. Maybe a little disclosure would help him figure out where to go from here.

  “I know who killed Markhas and I need to get to someone that can use the information,” he said after several seconds.

  She nodded with no trace of surprise in her expression. “And we need to get away from that same person because I know why he did it,” she said, dropping the boulder on the table and upping the stakes at the same time.

  “You do? Care to explain that.”

  “Not really,” she said. “Let’s just say it’s a lot scarier than the fact that Tomlinson murdered Markhas. Even if these two things weren’t tied together, the situation behind his actions is more lethal to me, than knowing he killed Arun.”

  “Nojo?” he said. Her face told him she believed what she was saying and that she might be telling the truth.

  “What you know would be inconvenient to him and in the right hands might be useful, but what I know has no hands that could keep me safe.” She leaned forward and lowered her voice. “Katryna told me you’d asked her about Project Odysseus when you had her in for interrogation. You obviously never figured out what it was did you?”

  “No,” he admitted. “We ran into dead ends every time we thought we had a lead.”

  “Not surprising,” she said. “I know what it is.”

  “Serious? What is it?”

  She reached over and tapped the screen control on the nightstand. “Newswave,” she said, waiting as the tri-vid image appeared on the wall. A story was running about an anti-government riot in one of the LEO colonies. She pointed at the screen.

  “You’re saying Odysseus was the plan to overthrow the Union?”

  She shook her head. “No. I’m saying it’s behind putting Tomlinson in his position. It is the power underneath all of this and it’s far more dangerous than one man.”

  Normally he’d dismiss a statement like that to paranoid conspiracy theories, but something in her face said she knew what she was talking about.

  “And you can’t tell me what this Odysseus is?” he said. “You and I are in a position to help each other, so we need to have some trust.”

  “Edison, it isn’t a matter of trust,” she said. “Nobody can do anything about this. We can’t take this to a person with power and get them to help fight back. There is no justice that will end this.”

  She got up, walked over to the door of the water closet, and opened it to check on Saffia. The hiss of the shower said it was still running. “What we need to do is disappear. Taking Tomlinson down won’t change what’s happening behind him. We need to get somewhere so far off the grid that they can’t follow us.”

  He scrunched his eyes closed and scratched the five-day stubble on his chin. “If he’s running the government, or what’s left of it, there isn’t any place that you can do that.”

  “I hear Mars is nice this time of year,” she said, coming back over and sitting down beside him. “What I need is to arrange passage, and I figure that with both of us pushing we can get Jaxton Quintana to give me a small ship. With that, Saf can get us there.”

  “She can?” he asked. “To Mars?”

  “Among her other talents, she’s a pilot,” Tana said.

  “That explains her tight physique,” he said. “High-g training.”

  “It really doesn’t,” she said, winking and shooting him a crooked grin. “But that’s as good a story as any.”

  Another secret, he thought. This woman is a bigger enigma than Odysseus.

  After several minutes of chewing on his options he said, “I can’t say as I like your plan, but I will make you a deal. If I can’t come up with a better option for you, I’ll do my part to get you to Admiral Quintana. I have one caveat though. If it comes to that and we can get you a ship, you tell me what is going on behind Tomlinson.”

  “Deal,” she said.

  Unfortunately, for the first time in their conversation, he could tell she was lying.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Office of the Executive Director: Galileo Station:

  Paulson Lassiter played the role of simple public servant well and Derek knew that. It was a role. He was influential in the old government and needed to be in the inner circle in the new one. The former Union Steward had connections and assets outside the old Union and perhaps still beyond Odysseus’ reach. Regardless, he would be useful as a center of influence as they moved forward.

  Although his name hadn’t been on Odysseus’ original list of participants, after some rather intense negotiation the computer had relented and allowed Tomlinson this one concession. They decided it would be acceptable to give Lassiter a position as Senior Advisor to the Director. The role was unofficial, but it let Derek keep him close at hand.

  “That went well,” Paulson said, as he followed the Director into his office.

  “Not really,” Derek said, dropping into the chair behind his desk.

  “I’m surprised you invited Carmen,” he said, sitting down across from Tomlinson and shaking his head. “You had to know she wouldn’t play.”

  “It wasn’t my idea,” he said.

  Lassiter sat motionless for several seconds. “I won’t ask what that means,” he said. “For now, I think it might be wise if I don’t know too much.”
<
br />   “I want to give you a specific position in the new government as my Senior Advisor,” he said. “It will, of course, come with access to some information others on the committee won’t have.”

  Lassiter pressed himself back into his seat and drummed his fingers on its arm while he chewed on his lip. “That’s an intriguing offer, but I’ve learned that being in possession of information can bring a degree of risk,” he said.

  “And a lack of information can be just as dangerous, but in different ways.”

  “True,” he said. “I would consider the position if I knew it would come with authority commensurate to the risk.”

  “I’m sure we could make you comfortable in that regard,” Derek offered.

  “It seems you are already comfortable with the royal We,” he said. “You have to be careful with ascending the throne too quickly, lest you be perceived as a dictator.”

  “I’m not a dictator,” Derek said, anger flashing through him.

  “Call it what you will,” Lassiter said, “but a government with one person in charge and no representation of the people, is a dictatorship. How you exercise your power will determine whether the people see you as a benevolent monarch or an evil emperor.”

  “Unfortunately, it seems I have no choice in how I’m perceived,” Derek said. “I must do what has to be done to protect the billion inhabitants of the Union. But to do that I have to keep what I’m protecting them from a secret.”

  “And what is that exactly?” he asked.

  Leaning back, he thought hard about how to answer. Lassiter was a shrewd veteran of the real world of power, but while that made him valuable, it also made him dangerous. “I can’t tell you.”

  “As you wish,” he said. “If you cannot tell me the nature of this secret, can you at least tell me why it has to remain hidden?”

  “The old government would not have endured what’s coming,” he said, “and the general population will never know that what we’ve done is for their own good.”

  “Never?”

  “Possibly not for generations,” Derek said. “I’m fifty-one now so I might survive to see it through. If the stress, or an assassin, doesn’t get me first.”