《Gravitas》


 Somebody Else鈥檚 Problem

    Despite the Corporations¡¯ best efforts, the Galactic Court had failed to find me guilty of any of the horrific crimes that would warrant a death sentence and my presence was so politically sensitive they didn¡¯t dare lock me away. Instead, they decided to freeze me and leave me as an interesting ethical dilemma for future generations.


    In deference to my age and frailty, my request to walk to the cryo facility where I would be serving my sentence had been granted. In deference to the fact the Galatic Court weren¡¯t bloody idiots and my many unlikely escapes were now legend, a whole company of masked Court guards followed me as I walked very slowly to my destination.


    They weren¡¯t the only ones. A stony-faced observer from the Corporations watched my slow progress. The slight waxy sheen of his skin showed him to be a veteran of multiple rejuvenations, making him both older, and richer than everyone here put together. He wanted me dead and I doubted he or the Corporations he represented would be bothered by interesting ethical dilemmas if the opportunity to kill me presented itself.


    He sneered as I lowered myself into the pod. I gave him a smile and a wave as the silent technicians connected me up. Then they stood back and the lid of the pod closed over me. Despite it being called cold storage I felt warm and the drugs they¡¯d given me had dulled all but the worst of the pain. I smiled and closed my eyes¡­


    ***


    I came awake to pain so intense it was as if every nerve ending was on fire. Pain that wouldn¡¯t let up. Pain so overwhelming that I was unable to comprehend anything else. For what felt like forever the agony continued. Then after what felt like an eternity, the pain started to recede. I gasped for air, coughed up what felt like half my lungs and, for a while, the pain that had been distributed throughout my body centred on my chest.


    After the latest spasm receded I realised I was lying on an uncomfortably hard, cold surface and risked opening my eyes. I found I was lying naked, alone, in a pool of viscous liquid in a dimly lit, long, tall, narrow chamber lined with rows of dark, vertically stacked, coffin-like boxes, three rows high. A few of them stood open and empty. The rest of them were firmly closed.


    I raised myself on shaking arms and looked around. There should have been someone here, either to gloat or commiserate with my situation, maybe with some sort of machine to give me painkillers. Or, at the very least, to stop me from getting up and wandering off.


    I got up and inspected the featureless box next to my former prison. It was covered in a thin layer of dust. I ran my hand over the surface and felt the power flowing through the box but couldn¡¯t see any obvious defrost button. I shivered. It wasn¡¯t all that warm in here, so I staggered to the double doors at one end of the chamber wondering what sort of reception a naked old man would get.


    The doors slid open smoothly as I approached, a few lights flickered on to reveal a room full of industrial-looking medical equipment and uncomfortable-looking trolleys, their restraining straps dangling untidily. I guessed this was the room I should have been defrosted in. It was as deserted as the chamber I¡¯d just left.


    In one corner was a glass-walled shower big enough to wheel one of the trollies into. As I was still sticky with whatever had kept me alive in the pod I decided a quick cleanse was just what I needed. I entered and pressed the full cycle button. There was an ominous rumble and the button flashed orange. Just as I was about to give up waiting, there was a ¡®dong¡¯, the light went green and I was assaulted by blasts of icy cold water coming from every direction, seemingly intent on deep cleaning every orifice. The water cut out and searing hot air blasted across my skin for a few agonising seconds. Then there was a friendly ¡®ding¡¯ and the shower door opened. I staggered out and leant gasping against a trolley feeling violated but cleaner than I¡¯d ever been in my life.


    Now I was clean I decided whatever was going on I was going to meet my fate with some degree of dignity, so, with that in mind I ignored the double doors that were the obvious exit and instead went over to a single door marked ¡®Staff Only¡¯. As I¡¯d hoped, it was a locker room, and, even better, some of the lockers had been left open. I went over to investigate the contents and caught a glimpse of my reflection in a mirror.


    I stopped and stared. A hairless, slim, middle-aged man stared back at me. It was me, but me fifty years ago if I¡¯d been fitter and healthier with a penchant for depilation. It was as if all those decades of living on increasingly dilapidated spacecraft had never taken their toll.


    Before I¡¯d been frozen I¡¯d had arthritis so bad I could barely open a door and a heart condition that threatened to make a mockery of any punishment the Court handed down. Of course the Courts would never have granted someone like me access to rejuvenation, even if I¡¯d had access to that sort of money. But¡­ somehow rejuv had happened which meant I still had friends¡­ Somewhere.


    I turned away from the mirror to investigate the contents of the lockers and in short order, I¡¯d found clothes to fit my shiny new body. Comfortable, if unstylish medical scrubs and some surprisingly substantial boots. I also found an identity badge dated thirty years after I¡¯d been frozen. Considering my crimes I was going to chalk that up as an early release.


    Properly attired I walked out of the medical room, down a wide, deserted, corridor with many doors off it, lit only by emergency lights, through an unfriendly grey reception area and out through the unlocked front doors.


    No one tried to stop me, no alarms went off, in fact, it was the most undramatic jailbreak I¡¯d ever made.


    It was then I realised that I was on a Corporate space station. One of the millions of almost identical, efficient, soulless little oases dotted throughout the galaxy. They were all so similar that I was able to instantly pinpoint my former prison as being located at the top level one end of the main central atrium. I looked down the centre lightwell to check for any sign of life. Nothing moved in the twilight of the emergency lighting, not even a maintenance bot. Even the skeletal remains of the long dead trees on the bottom level were still. It was a depressing sight, not helped by the stale dead smell of the air, and I suspected the life support had either malfunctioned or been turned off. It looked like the station had been abandoned for quite some time too.


    That¡¯s not to say the place wasn¡¯t monitored. This was a prison after all and I had a nasty feeling I had a very limited window to get myself off the station before some trigger-happy death squad arrived to investigate.


    Unwilling to trust the elevators, I found the stairs and descended down several floors of administrative and accommodation levels to the retail level, enjoying how my body coped with the exercise.Once on the retail level I Ignored the eateries and shops and hurried to the viewing lounge at the end, hoping against hope I was somewhere relatively civilised¡­ but not too civilised.


    The station had been abandoned in a hurry, the shops were still stocked and even the eateries still had drinks and food on the shelves although some of the cartons and containers had dissolved, their contents oozing over the various counters. I wondered how long it took for food packaging to lose structural cohesion. How long had I been frozen? My stomach rumbled as it informed me it was way past dinner time. I chose to ignore it.


    The pair of double airlock doors to the viewing lounge was wide open, another sign of either hasty abandonment or pure incompetence. The viewing lounge was half set to dining tables with the other half arranged as an amphitheatre around the seamless curved window with a small stage in front of the window. Any performance held on the stage would have to have been absolutely fucking jaw-dropping to draw anyone¡¯s attention away from the stunning view.Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.


    The vastness of a planet revolved below me, the white of a snow-covered landscape visible between gaps in the whirling clouds and suddenly I knew where I was. Jeckon, one of the few habitable planets in the galaxy that had never been terraformed.


    That''s not to say it was comfortable. The atmosphere was breathable but the ambient temperature ranged from mildly chilly on the equator to painfully fucking cold at the poles. For reasons that must have made sense at the time of colonisation, the planet¡¯s main and pretty much only city, the appropriately named Kacke, had been built uncomfortably close to the South Pole.


    Of course, if I wanted to visit Kacke I had to get off this space station first and with that in mind I made my way to the viewing lounge escape pods. Not only were these the most easily accessible, but they were also the largest, the most controllable, and the most valuable as they were the ones tasked with taking the station¡¯s senior management to safety.


    They were also conspicuous by their absence. If the blinking red light on the airlocks wasn¡¯t confirmation enough, the little viewing windows showing nothing but empty space confirmed the pods were gone. I cursed, the next closest escape pods would be back on the upper accommodation level, so I headed back through the retail level, this time going through the clothing district. As I¡¯d hoped there was a high-end outlet selling survival and cold weather gear to senior members of management who¡¯d had the misfortune to be assigned to visit the planet.


    I changed into stylish high-end clothes that didn¡¯t seem to have suffered from their long sojourn on the shop shelves, helped myself to an expensive looking, chunky wrist-com that still worked, then filled a backpack with more clothes, an emergency cold weather survival pack, a useful-looking multi-tool and a high-end first aid kit. Then, given that I was bloody starving, I tucked into some MREs that were supposed to last forever.


    They certainly tasted like longevity had been more of a priority than edibility and after my third pack I suddenly had to pay a lengthy visit to the staff toilet.


    Afterwards, feeling far more human, I made my way back up the stairs to find the corridors littered with abandoned personal belongings and every escape pod gone. Now I was starting to get a bit worried. I was stuck on a space station that had been hastily abandoned, albeit some time ago, and it was looking increasingly likely there wasn¡¯t going to be an easy way off.


    There was only one more place there might be a pod. The engineering section, all the way down in the bowels of the station and if there were no pods left, at least there I could get creative. The climb down took me as long as I feared and by the time I entered the dimly lit, cavern-like engineering section at the base of the station even my shiny new body was demanding a break.


    After a quick breather I checked the escape pod and wasn¡¯t too surprised to find it missing, but everything else needed to keep what was effectively a small city in space running was laid out before me. If I couldn¡¯t make some kind of spacecraft, or weaponise something and steal whatever craft the death squad had, I had really lost my touch.


    The maintenance airlock was my first point of call, or rather, the space suits around it. They were the standard dirty orange general-purpose maintenance suits, the sort you see every EVA worker in the galaxy wearing. There is great debate about which brands are best but, in truth, they¡¯re all pretty much the same and the best strategy is to find one that hasn¡¯t been inhabited by an incontinent sub-clone with bad personal hygiene.


    I made a quick inspection of the suits before glimpsing something half hidden in a corner that was much more my style and hurriedly moved the piles of stuff that had built up over the years, not quite believing my eyes. How an FYT suit had found its way onto a civilian space station I could only guess, although if I had been searching for one of these, Jeckon and its environs would have been my first stop.


    I got close enough to caress the dull grey surface of the suit which looked genuine. It had been a very long time since I¡¯d used one of these but you never forget the slightly rough texture of the outer skin that changed colour to my touch.


    The suits had been manufactured by some long-forgotten war-focused corporation during the last tech revolution in a bid to make infantry viable again and were vulnerable to a short list of weaponry usually only used in full blown space combat. Whole new battlefield strategies had been hastily invented to neutralise them, and, when those had been deemed to be too collaterally expensive, treaties had been signed banning them from being used on habitable planets and space stations.


    And yet, here was a genuine FYT suit looming over me and I wasn¡¯t about to turn this piece of good fortune down just because some cabal of over-rejuved corporation power brokers had signed a treaty. I tripped the suit¡¯s hidden manual override switch and with a hiss of air, the front of the suit swung open. Inside it was immaculate. Mind you, with something worth this much, I wouldn¡¯t have expected it to be left in the same state as your average station maintenance suit.


    I got up into the suit, sliding my arms into the arm holes, and, hoping against hope it hadn¡¯t been booby-trapped, then I turned it on. The helmet lowered down onto my head and the familiar head-up display beamed into my head. The good news was that the suit failed to kill or entrap me and the display was the original clear, easy-to-understand interface which hadn¡¯t been ¡®improved¡¯. It even looked like it had the latest updates.


    ¡°Thank you for choosing the Imperial Arms FYT suit. Properly maintained this suit will give you years of faithful service. Please take time to fill out your warranty to give you an extra¡­ Time frame exceeded by¡­ two hundred and fifteen years¡­ Warranty is now void¡­ To go through the training simulator¡­¡±


    ¡°Skip training,¡± I told the suit¡¯s pleasant-sounding, accented female voice.


    ¡°Please take a moment to set up your user preferences,¡±


    ¡°Suit, skip setup,¡± I said.


    ¡°Setup skipped. Standard settings loaded. This suit is currency running on emergency power as the fusion generator has been disabled for transportation. Please attach to a power source of 1.21 gigawatts or greater,¡± the suit told me and an armoured power connector sprung out from the suit¡¯s groin.


    I smiled. I¡¯d forgotten the power cable had been stored there. I jumped out, unfurled the charging cable from its storage space, wandered over to the nearest suit charge port and plugged it in. The station emergency lights visibly dimmed as the suit started to drain the station''s power reserves. As the suit charged it started to whine as the fusion generator powered up.


    While waiting I checked the fluids. Unsurprisingly, all were empty. The water was easy to top up, but the other stuff took a bit of searching for. By the time I¡¯d found everything, the station lights were flickering, the industrial charge port was melting and there was a strong smell of burning plastic. I ducked behind a piece of machinery as the whine of the suit increased. Then my ears popped as the station lights flickered and went out.


    For a few painfully long heartbeats there was darkness, then there were several loud clunks. Then all the lights in engineering came on, not just the emergency ones, as did everything else including several flashing red lights and the fire alarm. A breeze stirred the air. I came out from behind the machinery to find the charge port burning merrily. I grabbed a convenient extinguisher and sprayed it over the charge port encasing it in foam. There was a ping as the suit''s undamaged charging cable detached and retracted into the suit, the smoke dissipated and the alarms stopped. Then, one by one, the main lights went out leaving only the emergency lighting.


    I checked the suit. Despite the suit generating enough power to power up the entire space station, it was cool to the touch. I filled up the fluids and refilled the water container, checked the suit a couple more times before I realised I was just putting off the inevitable. I put my backpack in the suit¡¯s external storage, took a deep breath and got in.


    This time the suit moulded itself around me. I forced myself to go through the power-up checklist, and then, as all readings were showing normal¡­ Well, normal for an FYT suit, I squeezed into an airlock and ejected myself into space.

 Never Tell me The Odds

    ¡°You have just ejected yourself into space. Is there something I can help you with?¡± the suit¡¯s female voice asked me with a hint of reproach.


    ¡°Plot a course to Kacke avoiding detection,¡± I told the suit. There was a pause.


    ¡°Whilst this suit is capable for both terrestrial and extraterrestrial use, atmospheric entry into terran-type worlds, especially ones with extreme weather patterns is not recommended¡­ Scanning for alternative routes to the planet¡­ Calculating¡­ Your current location is in an embargoed zone. No routes found.¡­ Calculating¡­ The following flight path is the least dangerous option and has a 65% chance of success with a 10% chance of catastrophic failure.¡±


    I examined the route the suit brought up, it was rather less direct than the one I¡¯d planned to take which had been to go straight down and head south until I hit some sign of civilisation or civilisation came up and hit me.


    ¡°Very well, engage.¡±


    ¡°Engaging. Flight time will be¡­ approximately¡­ Four hours.¡± I felt the push of hard acceleration and the suit¡¯s arms and legs locked as the suit powered towards its destination.


    Slowly the planet got larger, and as the distance from the planet¡¯s surface approached 100km, the suit decelerated sharply and slipped smoothly into the atmosphere with barely a shudder.


    I sped high across the planet¡¯s surface at a leisurely mach 2, gradually losing height, and heading towards an ominous dark whirlpool of cloud on the equator, hundreds of kilometres wide and lit by lightning flashes. This was a big storm, even by Jeckon standards.


    ¡°Suit, shouldn¡¯t you be avoiding that hurricane?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Weather not found, would you like to install weather?¡± the suit asked.


    ¡°Umm, what? Yes, yes, install.¡± I yelled as we hurtled towards the storm.


    ¡°Installing¡­ Unable to install¡­ Using an Imperial Arms FYT suit in a breathable atmosphere is banned under twenty-seven galactic treaties. Please have your purchasing agent contact Imperial Arms for the complete list of restrictions on using the FYT suit.¡± the suit said in a different voice sounding way too smug for my liking.


    ¡°Fuck. Enable manual control.¡± I shouted wondering why there were so many treaties and how many of them had been signed due to my past actions.


    ¡°Manual control enabled.¡± The suit said and lurched sickeningly as I tried to remember which controls did while wondering why the controls were both inverted and reversed from the galactic standard.


    ¡°Would you like to take a quick tutorial on controlling this suit in an atmosphere?¡± The soothing female voice asked.


    ¡°I can do that in this situation?¡±


    ¡°Installing tutorial¡­. Unable to install. Using an Imperial Arms FYT suit in a breathable atmosphere is banned under twenty-seven galactic treaties. Please have your purchasing agent¡­¡±


    ¡°Suit, shut the fuck up and let me concentrate,¡± I yelled as I wrestled with the suit controls as the storm filled my field of view. ¡°Actually, set controls to galactic standard.¡±


    ¡°Setting Controls¡­ Unable to comply¡­. Using an Imperial Arms FYT suit in a breathable atmosphere is banned under twenty-seven galactic treaties. Please have your purchasing agent contact Imperial Arms for the complete list of restrictions on using the FYT suit.¡±


    It was now too late to turn and avoid the whirling storm clouds of doom without subjecting myself to horrific g-forces. Suddenly I was flying blind, relying on the suit¡¯s basic instruments to keep me straight and level while the storm treated me like a leaf in a blender. Throttling back made things worse, then the wind spun me out of control and it took me nearly a minute to restore some semblance of control during which time I was hit by lightning enough times to make it feel like the storm had a personal grudge against me.


    I was unharmed but the suit wasn¡¯t happy. Red lights that I didn¡¯t have time to look at were flashing, a persistent alarm was sounding in my ear and the display was flickering enough to give me a headache.


    Then the clouds cleared and directly ahead of me were a series of sharp black and white peaks.


    ¡°Altitude too low, impact Imminent. Please take immediate evasive action,¡± the suit¡¯s female voice said calmly over the alarm which I realised wasn¡¯t a malfunction but the suit trying to tell me it was about to hit the ground.


    ¡°Enable autopilot,¡± I yelled.


    ¡°Unable to comply¡­. Using an Imperial Arms FYT suit in a breathable atmosphere is banned under twenty-seven galactic treaties. Please have your purchasing agent contact Imperial Arms for the complete list of restrictions on using the FYT suit.¡±


    ¡°Well fuck you too suit,¡± I yelled mentally preparing a route through the jagged peaks.


    ¡°Unable to comply¡­. Using an Imperial Arms FYT suit in a breathable atmosphere is banned under twenty-seven galactic treaties. Please have your purchasing agent contact Imperial Arms for the complete list of restrictions on using the FYT suit.¡±


    ¡°Alarm off,¡± I shouted. To my surprise, the suit complied and I threaded my way through the peaks like the professional drop pilot I had been a lifetime ago. I whooped in triumph before taking stock of my surroundings.


    I was flying down one side of a massive U-shaped valley, a glacier beneath me, the sides of the valley towering above me and I suddenly felt very small. I angled my trajectory away from the valley side and the full force of the storm hit me, flinging me across the valley. I might have recovered but at that moment I was struck by lightning. I desperately fought with the suit¡¯s suddenly unresponsive controls and as they came back online I overcorrected the wrong way.


    I just had time to see the valley side approaching at a frightening speed before the suit forced me into a foetal position. A fraction of a second before I impacted there was a muted explosion. As crash landing impacts went, this was a relatively soft one and I guessed the suit had deployed some sort of airbag, the aftermath, however, went on for a hell of a long time, long enough for me to get really fed up being thrown about, the glimpses of the black and white landscape only serving to disorient me further. Finally, though, with a final bone-rattling thud, I came to a stop. Slowly and painfully, the suit released me from its foetal position until I was lying on my back. Above me, storm clouds whirled as gusts of wind buffeted the suit.Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    ¡°Emergency protocols enabled¡­ Suit systems compromised¡­ Self Repairing Systems enabled¡­ Your designated recovery service has been contacted and will be with you shortly¡­ Scanning you for injuries,¡± there was a faint buzzing in my nether regions, ¡°No serious or life-threatening injuries detected¡­ You are in a potentially hazardous location and attempting to move may cause damage to this suit or yourself¡­ You have been sedated until help arrives¡­ Please relax.¡±


    ¡°No. Cancel sedation,¡± I said, suddenly feeling very tired. I shut my eyes, just for a moment.


    ***


    I opened my eyes. Above me, I could see a cloudless blue sky above the black walls of the valley.


    ¡°Fuck,¡± I swore.


    ¡°An agent of your designated recovery service has arrived. Suit functionality is limited to ground use only. Please do not attempt to fly or jump more than ten metres. Please allow a few minutes for the sedative to wear off.¡±


    An orange cigar shape floated across my view, taking the view of the sky away from me. Beneath the giant orange cigar hung what looked for all the world like a couple of large shipping containers attached to a complete battleship bridge module. It took a few seconds to process what I was looking at and a couple of seconds more to remember I was on Jeckon. Only on Jeckon would anyone fill a bag with helium, strap it to one of the most advanced pieces of technology humanity had ever possessed, bolt a couple of shipping containers to it for storage and call it transport¡­ And, probably, home.


    ¡°Secure channel communication connecting¡­ connected.¡±


    ¡°Commander, are you there?¡± a young-sounding, Jekon-accented female voice whispered.


    ¡°Either that or I¡¯m experiencing a really shit afterlife. Is that your big orange bag of air above me?¡± There was the sound of a nervous giggle being suppressed.


    ¡°Well¡­ not mine, I¡¯ve persuaded the current owners there¡¯s some valuable salvage here and they are here to collect.¡±


    ¡°I suppose they want the suit for rescuing me?¡± I said, unhappy about this development.


    ¡°They want the suit but they have no intention of rescuing anyone. These are not nice people. Is the suit working?¡± the voice hissed. I checked the display.


    ¡°Yes, tell them they can have it when they pry it from my cold dead body.¡±


    ¡°I was so hoping you¡¯d say that. There¡¯s three of them coming down with me, all in orange EVA suits. Two are armed with laser blasters, and one has a projectile rifle. I¡¯m the one in white. There is one still on the airship but none of them are expecting trouble¡­ Not from you.¡±


    ¡°What about you?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Once I give them access to the suit I think they are going to kill me¡­ We¡¯re nearly here, wait for me to signal. Gotta go.¡± the voice said, a slight quaver betraying the fact she didn¡¯t normally do this kind of thing.


    ¡°Lt Surex has connected you to a public channel,¡± the suit announced


    ¡°Fucking snow, this better be fucking worth it,¡± a male voice complained over coms.


    ¡°Well there it is, Doesn¡¯t look like much. Are you sure it¡¯s an FYT suit?¡± another male voice asked.


    ¡°If it¡¯s in one piece, it''s an FYT suit, or something very similar,¡± my ally replied, sounding confident.


    ¡°I have a bad feeling about this. FYT suits don¡¯t just fall from the sky,¡± a female voice said.


    ¡°They do if I tell them to,¡± my ally said.


    ¡°Let¡¯s just get this done, get the loot and get out of here. I don¡¯t want to be here longer than necessary, we¡¯re at a far higher altitude than I¡¯m happy taking this airbag,¡± an older-sounding male voice said, the clearness of his transmission revealing that he was the one on the airship.


    ¡°Okay, you two grab the shoulders and drag it to the lift. It¡¯ll be easier to open there,¡± my ally ordered.


    ¡°You don''t tell us what to do. Open it here,¡± the complainer growled as someone knocked on my helmet.


    ¡°Open up you dumb suit,¡± someone said as an orange helmeted head appeared over me then recoiled back, ¡°fuck me, there¡¯s a body in there.¡± Two orange helmeted heads appeared and peered into my visor. I smiled at them and sat up as slowly as I could in approved zombie fashion realising at the same time I really needed to pee. I had no intention of ruining my posh new suit so I was going to have to deal with this quickly.


    ¡°Boo,¡± I said and flung my arms out, hitting the two figures with every bit of power the suit¡¯s exoskeleton could muster. They both went flying across the snow in opposite directions. Three metres in front of me, the third member of the airship¡¯s crew was staggering backwards, knee-deep in the snow, and unslinging their projectile rifle. In one bound I was upon them, I rippled the rifle from their grasp and brought my fist down on the suit¡¯s helmet which burst like an overripe watermelon.


    From behind me, there was the sound of blaster fire. I spun around, rifle at the ready only to see my ally neatly shooting one of our opponents in the chest with a compact blaster. They went down and we both turned to where the last of our opponents lay in a pool of blood, shockingly red against the snow. No one could lose that much blood and still be alive.


    ¡°What¡¯s going on down there? Is everything taken care of?¡± the last remaining crew member asked.


    ¡°The bitch is playing hard to get,¡± I answered in a rough approximation of one of his crew mates.


    ¡°Fucking hell Geoff, don¡¯t bother playing with her. Grab the suit and let¡¯s get out of here. It ain¡¯t as if she¡¯s gonna do anything but die up here.¡±


    I looked at my ally, her white suit splattered with blood. She just stood there, blaster held loosely at her side. I jumped over to her and pointed up to the airship. She stared at me, frozen in shock. I sighed, picked her up and put her under my arm then jumped over the snow to where a battered, yellow lift, connected to the airship by four wires, stood waiting. I pressed the up button and dropped my ally on the dirt-stained floor.


    The lift rose painfully slowly and my need to pee increased with every passing second. I got tired of waiting, and, estimating I was ten metres from the crudely cut opening of the starboard shipping container, jumped up into the hole. I found myself in a dimly lit space half-filled with crates of various sizes covered in frost. To my left, another crude hole had been hacked in the container to line up with the airlock door of the bridge module.


    Without ceremony, I used the emergency manual controls to open it and stepped inside. As I¡¯d expected, the last remaining crew member was sat in the Captain¡¯s chair. His feet resting on the control panel with the banks of screens in front of him dark. He turned and gasped in horror at the two-and-a-half-metre-tall apparition in front of him. I dropped the rifle, grabbed him by the throat, dragged him through to the shipping container and threw him screaming out the left hole. Halfway down he bounced off the lift, provoking a scream from my ally before he landed in the snow and was still.


    I stumbled back into the bridge module, opened the suit and slapped the open button to the bathroom. Nothing happened. I swore and looked around me, suddenly realising the module wasn¡¯t even powered up.


    I swore and returned to the suit, pinged the release to the groin-mounted power connector and dragged the cable over to the engineering console where I located the main power socket and plugged it in. There are many processes involved in powering up a bridge module and I ignored every one of them, merely flipping the big green ON switch. Lots of lights came on, quite a few of them flashing red and several alarms started beeping insistently. I ignored them all for the wonderful vacant green light of the bathroom door.

 Interval 1

    Imperial Industries Embassy to the Jekon Theocracy


    Kacke


    Special Investigator Vilden Smath took the embassy elevator all the way up to the surface to where the Ambassador held court. This was unusual, no one in Kacke came to the surface unless they had no other option but the Immortals lived by different rules. Rumour had it that the Ambassador had asked to be sent somewhere with weather and, as a nasty little joke of the type that was so common in the upper ranks of the Corporations, she¡¯d been sent here, the planet with <i>all </i>the weather.


    The elevator doors slid silently open and Vilden entered a chilly anteroom. An androgynous functionary, made chubby by all the layers they were wearing to keep warm, greeted Vilden cooly. With a practised eye from his years at Corporate HQ, Vilden guessed the functionary had recently had their second rejuv, and, even if it looked like it had been done on the cheap, it meant the functionary was well into their first century giving them at least seventy years superiority over Vilden.


    ¡°The Ambassador has requested your audience be private. It is highly irregular for one such as yourself to even be in the same room as her Excellency. Please do not disgrace yourself,¡± the functionary hissed.


    ¡°I <i>have</i> been transferred from HQ, I am well aware of how to conduct myself in the presence of <i>my</i> superiors,¡± Vilden said, making it clear that he didn¡¯t regard the functionary in that number.


    ¡°You were transferred here due to your attitude towards your Superiors,¡± the functionary pointed out. It was true there had been complaints, but they were just a cover for him being sent here.


    ¡°My job involves getting citizens to answer questions they¡¯d rather not answer. That tends to upset your average criminal, superior or not. Now, are you going to show me in or do you want to explain to Her Excellency why she was kept waiting,¡± Vilden replied. The functionary tutted but walked over to the big double doors at the far end of the antechamber, guarded by two ceremonial guards, and pulled them open.


    ¡°Special Agent Smath, as you requested ma¡¯am,¡± the functionary said, and shut the doors behind them, leaving Vilden alone in the private office of the Ambassador. And what an office. The room must have been twenty metres square with an arched ceiling almost as high. The walls were painted in elaborate gold and royal blue patterns and the floor was some kind of blue stone with veins of gold in it. Huge windows in the walls and ceiling looked out over the city and the overcast sky.


    The Ambassador was looking out the window at the clouds swirling over the city, or rather, the little of the city there was on the surface. After a tense few seconds for Vilden she turned and Vilden bowed. She was a tall thin woman with the pale waxy skin of someone who¡¯d had multiple rejuvenations and the attitude of someone who intended to have a whole lot more.


    ¡°Welcome Special Agent, please take a seat. You are not in trouble, in fact, this little job I have for you could be the making of you,¡± she said with rather more warmth than the functionary had shown, waving Vilden to a seat in front of a polished timber desk larger than Vilden¡¯s apartment. He waited for the Ambassador to seat herself before he sat down.


    ¡°What did you require of me, Your Excellency?¡± Vilden asked nervously.


    ¡°Unlike any of my other agents in my retinue, you have a proven track record and,¡± here the Ambassador actually cracked a smile, ¡°a reputation for dangerously independent thought. I have a mission for you. The Theocracy has picked up potential activity on our embargoed station.¡±


    ¡°Has there been <i>another</i> escape, Your Excellency?¡± Vilden asked. The ambassador raised an eyebrow and Vilden held his breath. There were things he wasn¡¯t supposed to know.


    ¡°Knowledge of those escapes is supposed to be highly classified¡­ But I suppose Agents wouldn¡¯t be Agents if they didn¡¯t stick their noses where they weren¡¯t supposed to, and it saves time with explanations,¡± the ambassador said and Vilden let out his breath as the Ambassador continued.


    ¡°Firstly, I remind you that <i>officially</i> no one has entered <i>or</i> left the station since it was embargoed under the agreement with this fair planet¡¯s highly enlightened government nearly seventy-three years ago. And the station has certainly never housed a clandestine stash of deep-frozen political prisoners. I don¡¯t need to tell you that If this gets out, our Corporation could be kicked off the planet for good, at the very least there would be a huge diplomatic incident¡± Vilden''s eyes flickered to the grey skies outside and raised an eyebrow, ¡°Well, okay, in the overall scheme of things it wouldn¡¯t be any great loss but it would be extremely bad for my future within this Corporation,¡± the Ambassador said, unexpectedly candidly.The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.


    ¡°And unofficially?¡± Vilden asked.


    ¡°Up until yesterday, there have been nine escapes, seven of the prisoners were quickly recaptured but now, we suspect, there has been a tenth escape.¡±


    ¡°Do you need me to try and get onto the station?¡± Vilden asked hesitantly. The Ambassador waved her hand in denial.


    ¡°We¡¯ve already had a look around. Our hosts insisted on a joint investigative force to investigate unusual power fluctuations from the station. Fortunately for us it turned out one of the charging points in maintenance had malfunctioned and no sign of anyone was found, alive or dead.¡± The Ambassador smiled. ¡°I will, of course, use this as a lever to get us allowed back on the station to make repairs, and once we¡¯re back in residence I will make it extremely hard to dislodge us¡­ but I digress. What <i>you</i> need to know is one of <i>our</i> members of the investigating team managed to confirm another one of the cold sleep pods was empty.¡±


    ¡°How can someone¡­ No, how can <i>ten</i> people escape from cold sleep and then escape from a Galactic Court-embargoed space station? I thought nothing, not even data, got in <i>or</i> out,¡± Jaden asked, unable to keep the incredulity out of his voice. The Ambassador sighed.


    ¡°The best our techies have come up with is that the pods have a fail-safe that kicks the occupant out in the event of a pod malfunction¡­ But as the pods were made over two hundred and fifty years ago by a Corporation that no longer exists we can¡¯t confirm this. As to how the first nine got off the station, well,¡± the Ambassador shrugged, ¡°there were nine escape pods left, seven pods dropped directly into our compound in Kacke as they were programmed to do. The other two, well, they could have only come down on the planet, but, as you are going to find out, it¡¯s a huge planet out there with more hiding places than we have shareholders. There aren¡¯t even records on the tens of thousands of legitimately stored spaceships that are stored here, let alone the ones that have been hidden here or just dumped.¡±


    ¡°I take it you have some intelligence on how the tenth prisoner got off the station and where they are now? Or are you just sending me out into the wilderness on the off chance I stumble on them,¡± Vilden asked acerbically. The Ambassador laughed.


    ¡°Whilst your attitude has not endeared you to many of your Superiors this is not a punishment assignment. One of the independent contractors tasked with keeping an eye on the upper atmosphere picked up an unidentified object falling to the planet shortly after the unusual power readings on the station were detected...¡±


    ¡°What sort of object?¡± Vilden interrupted, provoking a frown from the Ambassador who wasn¡¯t used to being interrupted.


    ¡°A suit, or a <i>very</i> small spacecraft. Whatever it was, it made a controlled entry into the atmosphere and then disappeared into a Category 5 storm around the equator. We thought they¡¯d disappeared without trace but then we had a bit of luck. One of the umm¡­ ¡®traders¡¯ the Corporation has done business with in the past contacted us to tell us they¡¯d been hired to recover a valuable spacesuit from an unexplored glacier near the equator¡­¡±


    ¡°And what do you want me to do?¡± Vilden asked, interrupting again. The Ambassador paused and Vilden realised he might have gone too far.


    ¡°I want you to meet this ¡®trader¡¯ at the agreed rendezvous point, recover this suit and take its inhabitant into custody. Then I want you to find out who¡¯s hired this ¡®trader¡¯, find them, take them into custody, and see if they know anything about the two other escaped prisoners. Are those acceptable mission parameters Agent? Or do you plan to interrupt me again?¡± The Ambassador said coldly.


    ¡°I apologise, Your Excellency, I meant no disrespect. Do you have any information on the identity of any of the escaped prisoners?¡± Vilden asked.


    The Ambassador gave the Agent a shark-like smile and slid a thin read-once drive over to the Agent who tapped it to his wrist com then quickly threw it back on the desk where it sparked before dissolving into dust.


    ¡°Those names probably mean nothing to you,¡± the ambassador said, brushing the dust off her desk as the Agent viewed the files.


    ¡°Commander Brandell Hawk and Maya Von Dack are notorious¡­ umm¡­ historical figures. I¡¯ve never heard of the third person though,¡± Vilden said, not wanting to use the term ''legend'' in front of the Ambassador. ¡°There is currently a popular entertainment series about the White Rock Rebellion at the turn of the last century.¡±


    ¡°I am aware of that over-dramatised Free System shit. It should never have been allowed to get on to our networks. Those people are criminals and terrorists and their actions are being romanticised by the masses. That rebellion <i>destroyed</i> the White Rock corporation and cost us <i>billions</i>, not to mention the amount of influence we lost. Back in the old days, we¡¯d never have been tiptoeing around a bunch of revolutionaries and religious freaks just because they are so-called <i>legitimate</i> governments,¡± the Ambassador spat.


    ¡°Why are all the prisoners still alive if they have been in our custody for all this time?¡± Vilden asked.


    ¡°Because the do-gooders at the Galactic Court are paying us to keep those scum on ice and not give them the slow, painful death they richly deserve.¡±


    ¡°So that means that at some point, the Court is going to want all of the prisoners on the embargoed space station returned and defrosted?¡±


    ¡°That is a problem for our glorious Sector Head and his lawyers. Not that he won¡¯t try and spread the blame when it all falls apart, which is another reason why this conversation is not happening.¡± Vilden nodded as if this was news and not the reason why he was on Jeckon in the first place.


    ¡°Understood, Ma¡¯am. So, how do I get to this rendezvous?¡±


    ¡°You will travel aboard the Corporation airship, <i>Free Enterprise. </i>Give this to Captain Jones. He¡¯s an obstreperous old fart who should have been retired years ago but he won¡¯t dare countermand a Special Agent bearing my Corporation Seal.¡±

 Rebel without a Cause

    I vacated the clean, brightly lit, lavender-scented bathroom and stepped into a bitterly cold, noisome chaos of alarms and flashing lights. My ally stood at the door, still in her blood-splattered suit, all I could see of her through her helmet were her eyes which were wide in shock. I went over to the engineering console and tapped through several screens of warnings until the alarms and most of the flashing red lights went off.


    Behind me came the hiss of the module airlock closing and the sound of a suit helmet being released. I turned as my ally removed her helmet, freeing an unlikely amount of red frizzy hair. A petite, pretty, pale-skinned freckled young woman looked at me, gave half a sob, and then with a visible effort brought herself under control.


    ¡°I have been using a freezing bucket used by three men with really bad aim and a woman who thought hygiene was a greeting¡­ and ¡­ And¡­ you just wander in here and find a toilet I didn¡¯t even know existed. And the lights are on,¡± she said. She looked around her as if looking at the module for the first time, then shuddered. ¡°By the Great Know-All, this place is a shithole, no wonder they didn¡¯t put the lights on.¡±


    I looked around, taking in my non-mission-critical surroundings for the first time. The module looked extremely lived-in and it was obvious cleaning hadn¡¯t been the crew¡¯s priority.


    ¡°I¡¯ve seen worse, It¡¯ll clean up,¡± I replied shrugging, and held out my hand for her to shake, ¡°Brantel Hawk, at your service. She stared at me, then cautiously shook my hand.


    ¡°Lieutenant Zia Surex of the Jeckon Secret Service at yours. I was expecting someone older¡­ A lot older,¡± she said carefully, still examining my face.


    ¡°Yes, it''s a bit of a mystery, that. I went into the cold sleep pod an old man and came out like this.¡±


    ¡°Are you really the Brandell Hawk, As in the Commander of the Free Fleets, the decapitator of the White Rock Corporation¡±


    ¡°Ummm¡­ well I had help with the White Rock Corporation, but yes, that''s me,¡± I admitted.


    ¡°Cool, I learnt about you in school. I have been ordered to escort you to our high temple in Kacke where the great Know-All has requested your presence¡­ If that is alright with you¡­ Sir.¡±


    I looked at the young woman who was gazing at me with awe.


    ¡°How long have I been frozen for?¡± I asked, getting a sudden sinking feeling.


    ¡°Oh¡­ You don¡¯t know? You were frozen for ninety-nine years¡­ Sir,¡±


    ¡°Oh. Fuck.¡± I replied, a sudden roaring in my ears


    ¡°Are you okay, Sir?¡±


    ¡°I¡­ think I need to sit down,¡± I said as my mind whirled. Everyone I knew was dead, except perhaps for my most annoyingly persistent enemies who would, no doubt, already know I¡¯d escaped and would be turning Jeckon inside-out to make sure my unexpected reappearance was brief and full of pain. Not only that, everything I knew was a century out of date. I had no plan, no way out¡­ I put my hand on the back of the captain¡¯s chair to steady myself. It was sticky. Zia put a hand on my arm.


    ¡°Umm¡­Maybe not there, here, come and sit on my bunk,¡± she led me to the back of the module and an area, half hidden by a ragged blanket next to a stack of mismatched batteries and a cat''s cradle of wires that hummed ominously. I let her sit me down on what was either a narrow bunk or an oversized storage locker, then she left me alone with my existential crisis. A few moments later I heard her return.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry you had to find out like that. I thought you would already know.¡± Zia said softly, putting a hand on my shoulder and interrupting my brooding. I looked at her. She had taken off her spacesuit and was wearing what looked like a white, skin-tight undersuit and I suddenly became very aware that I was next to an attractive young woman who was dressed in nothing but her underwear. On her bed.


    I realised this had the hallmarks of a potentially compromising situation and stood up abruptly. ¡°I¡¯m sorry Lieutenant. I will allow you to get dressed. Forgive me for intruding on your privacy.¡± Zia looked down at herself in panic then looked confused.


    ¡°Uh, what? I am dressed,¡± she said, then smiled. ¡°Oh, Commander, fashion has changed a bit in the last hundred years. What I am wearing is a shipsuit, it keeps me warm, it keeps me safe and it stops me from smelling too bad. Although after three days aboard this shithole, I would kill for a shower and maim for access to a fabric cleanser.¡±


    I went over and pressed the button by the bathroom, a panel slid back to reveal a small industrial fabric cleanser behind protective film.


    ¡°No maiming required, and as part of your share of the spoils of war, you can also use the shower in with the toilet. There should be a food prep area somewhere too¡­ And for your information, we did have shipsuits in my day, they just weren¡¯t quite so¡­¡± I waved my hand at Zia, ¡°revealing.¡±


    ¡°This is the fashion now, Do you have a problem with that?¡± Zia asked, smiling, I forced myself to look at her face, her very pretty face. She had green eyes that sparkled with mischief.


    ¡°Maybe it¡¯s okay for you young things, but most umm¡­ veterans have to conceal a bit of expansion in the midriff area. Also, you mentioned you were a Secret Service agent. How do you even conceal any weapons while wearing that?¡± I asked, trying to steer the conversation onto more appropriate subjects. Zia stifled a giggle and I realised I¡¯d failed miserably as she tapped me lightly on my shoulder.


    ¡°Oh, you. You should know a lady never reveals where she hides her weapons,¡± then she poked me in my stomach, ¡°and you don¡¯t have any expansion of your midriff, you would rock a shipsuit. Not that what you are wearing ain¡¯t cool, just¡­ old.¡±


    ¡°Lieutenant, your behaviour could be construed as behaving inappropriately towards a senior officer,¡± I said, trying to regain control of the conversation and Zia laughed bitterly.The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


    ¡°Commander, we have just murdered four citizens, pirated their airship and you are worried about what¡¯s appropriate. And you¡¯re not my senior officer, the Jekon Theocracy didn¡¯t even exist when you were frozen. Do any of the governments who gave you your commissions even exist anymore?¡±


    ¡°If you have even done the most cursory investigation into my background you will know they don¡¯t. And I may be a murderous, pirate but that doesn¡¯t mean I don¡¯t have standards. Also, I was old enough to be your great-grandfather before I was frozen,¡± I pointed out. Zia sighed.


    ¡°I don¡¯t care how inappropriate you think this situation is, if you¡¯re about to be weird about the two of us alone in an airship you need to wait until we reach civilisation. I need you functioning to fly us out of here.¡± As if to make the point a gust of wind hit the airship and we both staggered.


    ¡°You mean you don¡¯t actually know how to fly this thing?¡± I asked. Zia¡¯s face fell.


    ¡°Umm¡­ No, only the Captain knew. I hadn¡¯t actually planned for his death. I hadn''t really planned for any of them to die.¡± Zia said and shuddered.


    ¡°They did rather force the issue,¡± I pointed out and went over to the Captain¡¯s console to examine the small, battered control screen that was clipped to it. ¡°Is this what he used to fly this thing?¡± I asked, looking at the combination of basic direction controls, the complicated buoyancy management systems and something that either controlled a weapons system, or was a tower defence game.


    ¡°Yes, the power for the engines comes from the batteries by my bunk,¡± Zia said, peering over my shoulder. I tapped a few buttons on the disturbingly sticky main console, transferring the controls over to the module and turned on the main screen. The lieutenant gasped and stepped back as it flashed into life. I took in all the status screens.


    ¡°Zia?¡± I asked, looking at one of the many flashing warnings on the screen.


    ¡°Yes, what¡¯s up?¡±


    ¡°Can you put your suit back on and disconnect every battery you can find. Quickly.¡± I said as calmly as I could.


    ¡°Won¡¯t we lose power?¡± she asked, pulling on her suit with reassuring alacrity.


    ¡°Lack of power is not a problem. My suit is flooding the whole module with power and it looks like that bank of batteries was not built with this scenario in mind. They don¡¯t have any safeguards to stop them from overcharging and overheating.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think overcharging was ever a problem before you arrived,¡± Zia called from the back of the module. There was a fizzing electrical sound, half the warning lights disappeared from the screen and the persistent background hum disappeared. ¡°That fixed it,¡± I called.


    ¡°These batteries are super hot, should I put them in one of the cargo holds to cool off?¡±


    ¡°Good idea,¡± I said, absently as I reviewed the power set-up. Before I¡¯d plugged in my suit it looked like the power had been provided by solar panels stuck to the top of the airship envelope. There was the hiss of one of the module doors opening and a cold draught blew through the already chilly module bringing with it the smell of overheated plastics. I went into the environmental controls to turn on the heating and ventilation. There was a warning left by the team who¡¯d prepped the module for storage. I read it and smiled.


    I pulled out the survival knife I¡¯d nicked from the space station store and ran it across the bottom edge of the Captain¡¯s chair. After a couple of passes, it cut through the coating that had been sprayed over the whole of the module to protect it from harm and I peeled the encrusted, yellowing film off, managing to do the whole chair in one go, leaving it looking like new. I then repeated the same process with the Captain¡¯s console and was just starting on the main screen when Zia turned up, sans suit.


    ¡°Watcha doin¡¯?¡± she asked, exaggeratedly fluttering her eyelashes at me.


    ¡°Do you know why this whole module is sticky?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s nothing to do with me. It was like that when I joined.¡±


    ¡°When this module was stored it was sprayed with a coating to protect it. It was never removed, we just need to peel it all off and we¡¯ll have a clean module. The stickiness is just the coating biodegrading¡±


    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s a relief. Ooo, can I have a go?¡± she asked as I ripped the film off the main screen in one satisfying movement, instantly making the screen brighter and clearer.


    ¡°Go for it. Chuck the old film out the lift, it¡¯s no good for anything now. I¡¯m going to try and get this thing going.¡± I handed Zia my knife, sat down in the Captain¡¯s chair and turned on the external cameras so I could see where I was going, double checked none of the dead bodies had got up and wandered off and brought up a rather rudimentary map and tried to plot a course before I was distracted by the sound of detaching film.


    ¡°I¡¯ve pulled off the whole ceiling, ¡®scuse me,¡± Zia walked delicately across my console in front of me, flashing her ankles as she detached a huge wodge of film from the ceiling. As the film came away the module got noticeably lighter and a warm breeze started to circulate. I waited until she¡¯d finished stripping the front of the module then sent power to the motors that powered the four propellers, the module shook and leant to one side as I turned the airship around and headed away from the scene of the crime and towards the glacier¡¯s toe.


    ¡°I have a question. Why are you calling this a module?¡± Zia asked after a few minutes of film peeling while I tried to work out how to get the airship to descend.


    ¡°Because that¡¯s what it is. This is the bridge module of a heavy battleship containing all the really complicated, expensive stuff, and, in the event that the battleship itself is compromised, it¡¯s designed to act as a lifeboat for the bridge crew.¡±


    ¡°Ahh, that¡¯s one mystery solved. I was told to bring this back in one piece if I could. This is valuable then? I mean, more valuable than a normal airship.¡±


    You¡¯re asking someone who¡¯s been frozen for a century,¡± I shrugged, ¡°but if there hasn¡¯t been a series of technological advancements like there were back in the last technological revolution, any of the Corporations would consider a few million and the bad publicity well worth it to get their hands on one of these.¡± Zia looked around at the module with fresh eyes.


    ¡°One of my teachers said we¡¯re in an age of technological stagnation and have been for a couple of centuries. But you''re saying this is worth a few million credits? Wow. But why the bad publicity? Who cares if the Corps has one more battleship? Well, not even a battleship, just part of one.¡±


    ¡°Not credits. Lives. Money won¡¯t buy one of these, but some Corps would be quite happy to slaughter their way across this planet to get their hands on one of these. Unless, of course, there have been some major policy changes in the last century, making an AI mind as powerful as the one in here has been outlawed since before I was born.¡±


    ¡°If the AI in this is so powerful, why are you struggling to make the airship go down?¡±


    ¡°Because I haven¡¯t allowed it access to the module systems. I don¡¯t want to deal with a borderline sentient AI that has been dormant for fuck knows how long to find out it considers humans a parasitical infestation. It may not even be of human origin.¡±


    ¡°Oh,¡± Zia said. There was a long pause and then the sound of film being removed. I used this time of blissful silence to figure out how to control the elevation of the airship which I felt was far more complicated than it needed to be. Eventually, after a lot more film removal, Zia returned.


    ¡°So let me get this straight. I am stuck on board a stolen airship, on an uncharted glacier, at least two days'' flight from any form of civilisation, on a planet famous for its violent and unpredictable weather. My only companion has just murdered four of my former crewmates, is one of the most notorious terrorists ever to have lived and doesn¡¯t appreciate my fashion sense. Our living quarters are made from a piece of technology the Corps would commit genocide for because it contains an AI that might think humans are an itch that needs scratching?¡±


    ¡°Pretty much,¡± I replied, ¡°although I prefer the term freedom fighter or revolutionary, to terrorist.¡±


    ¡°I should have listened to my mother and become a Priestess,¡± Zia sighed.

 Interlude B

    Permitted Packet from: Corporation Airship ¡®Free Enterprise¡¯ to: Jeckon to Malvo Station Corporation Packet Shuttle ¡®Greased Lightning¡¯.


    Type Encrypted Message


    Type: Family Communique


    From: Special Agent Vilgen Smath


    To: Functionary Jem Smath


    Dear Uncle,


    Greetings from Jeckon. It is surprisingly mild for the time of year here ¡­ Private Code found ¡­


    ¡­ Transferring ¡­


    ¡­ Head of Security Malvo Station ¡­ Security Clearance Insufficient ¡­


    ¡­ Forwarding to ¡­ Sector Administrator ¡­


    ¡­ Secondary code found ¡­ Security check ¡­ PASSED


    ENTER PASSWORD


    B055man69


    PASSWORD CORRECT ¡­ Decoding ¡­


    ***TOP SECRET***


    Your Excellency


    1. As you suspected, there has been a limited containment failure at Location A. Fortunately only 10 assets have been affected and 7 of these were recovered shortly after making planetfall. Current identities, location and status unknown.


    ***


    2. The final containment failure possibly caused power fluctuations at Location. Permitted on-location investigations reveal enough deterioration for repairs to be a realistic request. The Ambassador is optimistic permanent access is possible.


    ***


    3. The Ambassador has given me carte blanche to deal with latest containment failure and intelligence to make early apprehension likely. If all goes to plan I should pick up VVD en route and that will leave only KT at liberty. That is the good news.If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    ***


    4. The bad news is the latest containment failure, BH, is a known associate of both VVD and KT. This makes it extremely likely Location A has been compromised and total containment failure is a possibility. It also lends credence to the wilder theories about the rise of the Theocracy having something to do with Location A.


    ***


    5. There remains no leads on KT or either of the possible AI Minds. Given KT¡¯s specialty this is a serious concern. I request further resources ASAP.


    ***


    6. I have serious concerns about the competence and loyalty of the commander and crew of this airship. Given they are the only Corporation assets able to pilot an airship I suggest rejuvenation and re-education are required if we are to maintain a presence on the surface.


    ***


    Glory and Profits to the Corporation


    ***


    Permitted Packet from: Jeckon to Malvo Station Corporation Packet Shuttle ¡®Greased Lightning¡¯ to: Corporation Airship ¡®Free Enterprise¡¯


    Type Encrypted Message


    Type: Family Communique


    From: Functionary Jem Smath


    To: Special Agent Vilgen Smath


    Dear Nephew


    I remember Jeckon well, the midwinter snowball fights when everyone comes to the surface ¡­ Private Code found ¡­


    ¡­ Secondary code found ¡­ Security check ¡­ PASSED


    ENTER PASSWORD


    Iamgettingreallyf*cked0ffhav1ng2changemypisswrd!


    PASSWORD CORRECT ¡­ Decoding ¡­


    ***TOP SECRET***


    Continue with mission with additional parameters


    ***


    Priority A


    Find identities, location and status of all 7 assets


    ***


    Priority AAA


    Bring BH & VVD into custody. Do not allow them to find out about each others existence. Recommend all non corporation assets to be disposed of with extreme prejudice. Further instructions to follow.


    ***


    Your existing mission has been upgraded to Priority AAA+


    ***


    No additional planetary resources are possible. We are sending a heavy carrier to Jeckon in case emergency support is required but we require you to achieve your mission goals discreetly.


    ***


    Your comments about the lack of cooperation have been noted. The benefits we get from the airship would not make Rejuvenation cost effective. Recommend the crew are sent for re-education at their own expense. As an interim measure, consider sourcing a new crew from motivated natives.


    ***


    Glory and Profits to the Corporation


    ***