Breach

fiction by michael werneburg

2002.07.26

The Ensign seemed alarmed. "What? Why?"

"It's been parked there in real time, absorbing the waste that's blowing in the wind. Corporate will scrap it."

"That's a classic, it's got to be five hundred years old."

"You a bit of a vehicle buff?"

"I suppose so. But the Prohibitions are clear that nothing of value should be wasted. In this case, there's clear utility as well as monetary value to the Corporation. That sled and this one are both classics–"

But then the AI interrupted. "The subtime module is missing from the Captain's sled. Likelihood that the Prince has taken it with him exceeds 95%."

"So, he's giving the actual technology to the aliens?"

"Give?" asked the AI. "I believe a sale is more likely than a donation."

"If we report this to Command," Xin said, "they might order us to execute the Prince on sight."

"I have already reported my findings," commented the AI, "as is protocol."

While the Ensign logged that, too, Xin nodded once calmly turned a dial on her weapon. Marl couldn't hear the click of that dial settling into the "lethal" position, but she didn't really need to. "Let's see the Prince's sled, Mother."

"Yes, Lieutenant."

The sled climbed the sloped wall of the pit mine, and then followed the uneven rim of the pit for a while. The sled slowed and then came to a stop. There among the trees and debris was the discarded second sled.

Xin scanned the area quickly. "Nothing visible remains on the sled, and I don't see any sign of the Prince or any Terran equipment. And there are footprints all over the place. There, see? Terran. And those, they must be Caofsh. Mother, you're certain none of the memory chips are there?"

"Nothing remains. The sled has been thoroughly picked over. We might have to transport it back if we can't repair it."

The two men jumped off their sled and picked up the small wreck. They through it on the deck of their sled and hopped back aboard. "Take us back into the pit, please, Mother. We're going to inspect the waste repository."

"Yes, Lieutenant."

The sled re-entered the pit, descending rapidly but without the earlier haste. They could see the Terran waste repository in a low place in the pit. Soon they slowed as they drew near the half-exposed waste tank. "We have reached our destination," said the AI. "Protocol requires that you now deploy."

They were right next to the repository. The ground was littered with debris, smashed machinery, and corpses. Coolant mist quickly started coming into their subtime field, where it dissipated at a fierce boil. Aware that outside the field there was an active firefight, each of them got up calmly and made their way to the rear where their gear was lashed down. They all knew the protocol and shared the work. They disabled the gravity locks that held down the equipment, then moved the individual pieces to their designated startup places around the deck. Once the equipment was appropriately arrayed, the entire set was activated as one by Marl.

The various pieces of equipment snapped to life in a seamless ballet of silent motion, some of them unfolding manipulators, others rising on their treads or wheels. Soon the deck was cleared of the things and the crew headed for the breached tank.

She asked the AI, "Mother, once we've achieved a cap on the repo, which way should we go to find the Prince?"

"Insufficient information for analysis," the AI told her.

Marl started climbing down from the sled's deck, she got a signal that someone was trying to reach her on comms. She responded to the call without breaking her stride. "Marl."

"Hello, Lieutenant," came her Admiral's voice. If the Admiral was speaking to her, it meant that his ship was above them in orbit. The largest Terran ships could travel at very nearly zero time.

The Admiral was a surprisingly down-to-Earth fellow and liked to keep these private-channel conversations mostly casual. "Welcome to the party!" She told him.

"How did this Prince disappear on us?"

"He had a plan from the moment he decided to join the intervention party," she told him. "He had all the ship's memory cards and a cargo container full of who knows what hardware."

"I am concerned," he told her in the kind of even tone that suggested he was seething.

She said, "Can I patch in the rest of the crew? Chrissy Xin is currently in charge due to the security concerns."

"Of course."