Breach
fiction by michael werneburg
2002.07.26
"It is. We expect we'll find that it was in the hands of some engineer. If we find that some transmissions went off-world about it, the Caofsh will throw everything they have at us."
"Yes, sir. What of the planet, though?"
"With your AI's report about the Prince's treachery sent back, Command was very fast to make several decisions. We're still getting them in real time, but he'll be executed once they've extracted what they need from him. And the planet will be bombarded. These Caofsh prisoners of yours will be the only ones from that planet to see tomorrow."
Marl watched Hiram make a hand gesture; it was one of the most serious wards against bad fortune. She would do the same in person when she was in her quarters.
"As for Virga, I'm ordering you to return to Terra. You are short two crew members, and have neither modern scientific equipment or even the crawlers and fix-its to do the job. I'm putting in a commendation for promotion for all three of you. By the time you get to Terra you'll have more than a year's back-pay at your new rates to spend."
Marl was delighted, but the look on Eisberg's face said he wasn't quite as happy. Addressing the AI, he said, "Mother, did the main sled not bring back Mr. Smooth?"
"Neither sled returned to Virga, Lieutenant. They remained with the Admiral's personnel and were returned to the mothership. The whereabouts of Mr. Smooth and several other automated systems cannot be concluded," the AI said. "It can be assumed that the machines were locked inside the breached repository when the Terran forces arrived to eliminate the Caofsh aggressors and cap the repository."
"What a terrible fate," Eisberg said. "And then to be on planet when the meteors strike."
The Admiral gave Eisberg a reproachful look. "Mourning an automated worker? Are you sure you haven't been indulging in the waste yourself, Lieutenant?"
There were a few polite chuckles. But Marl was still fretting. They'd come so close to true calamity. She hated to think what the Corporation's punishment would be if they had lost the data. "Are we quite sure all the memory chips were intact?"
"It seems that they were, and that none were accessed," the Admiral said. "Believe me, we would be having a very different conversation if that wasn't the case."
"And the missing field generator?"
"Useless without the fuel we refine. It wouldn't even activate without the right kind of power source."
"And this Four Quarter that the Prince spoke of?"
"We haven't found him, but we're monitoring transmissions from the planet and also any conventional craft leaving the planet. If he tries to get off-world, we'll catch him. If he doesn't, the meteors will get him."
"Thank you, sir!"
The Admiral signed off and the display returned to the view of the planet before them.
Marl turned to the two men. "The Admiral's logic makes sense. But I have a grave feeling that we've missed something."
Eisberg nodded. "This Four-Quartet story doesn't add up. If an alien popped out of thin air in the middle of a free-fire narcotics combat zone, I can tell you I wouldn't have taken it in stride the way he did. And to be so quick to steal the field generator from the Prince?"
No one spoke for a moment. Then the Ensign said, "There is a certain type of predator that is drawn to scenes of calamity."
Marl looked at his bleak appearance and realized he was speaking of his childhood on Hysbik II.
As the others returned to their , the impending destruction of the planet weighed on her heart. She would have to meditate on this tonight, and maybe for several weeks. She thought of the distinct purple hue of the planet's plant life, which would now be lost forever. It was tragic, really. But the look in the Ensign's eye said there was hope for their kind, yet. If that orphan boy could see that
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Special Agent Four-Quartet-Oauryiid-of-Sector-North of the Ministry of Information of the Illustrious Benanjil Star Empire directed his staff to incinerate the bodies. His team, on official Ministry business, had just executed some locals who were engaged in an armed conflict over access to the Terran facility. He was about to board their ship when a Terran on a small anti-gravity sled popped into existence not five meters away. The alien alighted from its sled and took a couple of steps toward the Special Agent. It then did something that turned its opaque mask clear, revealing a male face.
The sudden appearance of the Terran in this fashion was at once startling but also not surprising. They were exhuming a Terran site, after all. The AI in the Special Agent's optical heads-up display spat out some probabilities about the Terran's background and intent based on his appearance alone. The Special Agent smiled in a way he knew the Terrans would find warm. "Greetings, your Highness," he said behind his mask, his chest-mounted external speaker providing a translation.
"Do, do you know me?" The Terran asked, looking surprised in a flattered way.
The Special Agent, a fifty-year veteran of Alien Technology Branch, told the human, "Alas not, your Highness. But I have been blessed to have many dealings with your kind, and I recognize a man of bearing when I see one." Which was partially true. The reality was that his AI had summed up his designer stubble, the signs of dissipation, and the fact that the man had appeared alone. The Special Agent knew that he was indeed blessed, as the AI was certain the Terran would now make some kind of hare-brained offer of defection. The Special Agent sent a note to his team, who began to take certain steps. These included activating radio connections of various protocols, and initiating software penetration attempts. The Special Agent observed the lack of fuss or surprised proclamations among his staff and was well pleased. The drug he was administering was keeping them all in line.
The Terran looked at the burning bodies and approached the Special Agent. The Special Agent kept a warm smile on his downy face and observed remained assured in the AI's summation that the Terran was unarmed. The Terran made something of a clumsy greeting by waving his hand, to which the Special Agent responded with a slight bow. The Terran said, "Am I right in thinking you're in charge here?"
"Of course, your Highness. Please forgive this unfortunate business. We're here to contain the contamination of course, but we have to deal with this rabble. They have become quite overwhelmed by the narcotic effect of the material billowing from this container and present a hazard to my team. We are forced to respond with violence."
In his ear, the Special Agent heard from one of his men,