“What time is it?” Aggie blinked. She held up a hand, shading her eyes from the glare of the bedside lamp.
Cricket lurked in the doorway, dressed for the office. “04:42. I wouldn’t have disturbed you, but you said if I heard anything from L-39…”
Aggie sat up, suddenly very much awake. “Have Ri and Wes reported in?”
“I’m afraid not—not directly. It’s a message from The Tempest. Its artificial person, Sycorax, forwarded several files from the medical team that was stationed on Boötes.”
“No news about Ri and Wes?”
“Unfortunately, no. It appears the corsair NISS Narcissus, an NIA vessel, has attacked and destroyed The Tempest. Gita was cut off before her message to us was complete.”
An icy terror knotted Aggie’s stomach. “Survivors?”
“Uncertain. A shuttle and an escape pod launched before the ship was destroyed. Someone is likely to have survived. We’ve not detected new communications or emergency beacon signals, however. That is worrying. In addition, the operational status of the shuttle is unknown. The escape pod appears to be without power.”
“And the data?”
“All the files arrived whole and uncorrupted.” Cricket tilted her head, and her eyes flashed an ethereal blue. “The data packet has been verified as sent from our operatives. It also contains the most recent reports from Jargoon.”
“Good.”
“Narcissus’s missile launch may have been an attempt to silence The Tempest before Gita could complete an official distress call.”
“That would imply that our agents’ identities were compromised.”
“Not necessarily,” Cricket said. “Many conclusions could be drawn from this set of circumstances. Gita might have boarded Boötes and been caught, for one.”
Aggie frowned. “Shit.”
“Sycorax prioritized the files from Boötes over The Tempest’s distress call.”
And she may have fucking saved us by doing so. But… “Lavi never hears that. Understood?”
Cricket nodded.
They’re family. The only one I have. Aggie had made a promise.
“Get someone to the border zone. The fastest starship available,” she said. She brightened the bedroom lights with a hand gesture. “Now.”
“Won’t that defy order number—”
“Ask me if I give a fuck.”
“But—”
“On my responsibility. Harper can have my resignation, if she wants. I mean it.”
“Duly noted.” Cricket still didn’t move.
“Well?”
“I’m giving you a few moments to reconsider,” Cricket said. “As promised.”
Aggie sighed. Face burning, she pushed both hands through her short hair and closed her eyes. She hadn’t had a panic attack in years. Damn it. Once she felt she had a handle on herself again, she looked up at Cricket. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” Cricket carried on like nothing had happened. “I’ve assembled two possibilities. My first choice is the least likely to disrupt the political situation. A Lee-Ingalls Technologies Mach 5 Cruiser named Artemis with a Nortonian registry. The captain is one of our freelance agents. In case something can be done for Ri and Wes, a second team can prioritize extraction. Both are ready for your approval. Do you wish to see the crew lists?”
“No, thank you. I trust your judgment.” Aggie sighed. “Any idea where Ri and Wes went?”
“Ri indicated that the crew planned to evacuate to the surface of Loki’s Ring.”
From bad to worse, Aggie thought. “They weren’t left with any other option, I suppose.” She scooted to the edge of the bed and began searching for her slippers with her toes.
“Escape pods last no more than two days, and other than the Ring, L-39 contains no other sustainable landing site. Therefore, you are correct.”
Was Mother already aware of the Ring’s visitors? If so, why haven’t they contacted me? Maybe they don’t know? It was unlikely. Mother, Aggie’s sometimes friend and the leader of the largest pirate navy in the Norton Independent Alliance, kept watch over L-39 like a razorback mammoth did its calf.
Aggie had yet to discover Mother’s connection with the Ring. She didn’t know their motivation, but she was certain it wasn’t the usual Nortonian obsession with profit and power. On the other hand, that could be an act. Aggie wondered if the TRW’s concerns about the return of the Ring’s architects were moot.
It was time to inform them of current events—preferably before anyone did anything hasty. “Give me an overview of the situation. Include any recommendations you might have.” The rug was cool and soft under Aggie’s feet. Finally locating the slippers, she shoved her toes into them.
“The timeline I’ve been able to construct indicates that the Tau, Chu & Lane subsidiary Thompson Import-Export initiated an illicit mining operation. A week ago, they discovered a cache of unknown alien technology. The mining platform sent an emergency request for assistance twenty-three hours later. Boötes was dispatched to perform a rescue operation. Shortly before arrival, home office shifted their mission priority from emergency assistance to isolating and securing the technology. All platform workers were presumed dead. Boötes’s medical team recorded the estimated time of the last death at four hours, fifty-three minutes after the emergency call.”
“Fuck. That’s fast.” Standing, Aggie shrugged into a robe. “I assume you’ve already read the files. What’s your initial analysis?”
“I can’t make an accurate assessment at this time.”
“Very well.” Aggie paused. “I need something for Mother.” She glanced at the digital clock floating over Cricket’s head. “Preferably in the time it takes me to reach my desk.”
Having lived alone her whole adult life, Aggie preferred her privacy. It was simpler that way. Unfortunately, circumstances such as this called for company. Her own mother—also a staunch loner—often said that misery shared was halved, while shared joy was doubled.
Cricket’s quiet simulated footsteps tapping across the tiled floor were reassuring.
Tau, Chu & Lane were sponsoring a potential trade waiver with the Ronrel Worlds. It wasn’t going to happen. The Council wouldn’t sanction a close relationship with any Norton Independent Alliance entity, but some political centrists had proposed a step toward diplomacy. They thought it would weaken the growing tensions between the two entities. Aggie knew better. You can’t have a working relationship with someone who doesn’t believe in the sapience, much less the rights, of a significant portion of the TRW’s population. Fortunately, a majority of the TRW agreed with her, so the negotiations were merely for show.
Heading down the hall, Aggie calculated the time difference. She was fairly certain that Mother wouldn’t mind the interruption.
Cricket’s voice took on a hollow quality in the spartan hallway. “Initial analysis indicates the tech in question is nothing like we’ve encountered before. It appears to have biological, micromechanical, and electronic components. Unlike most microtechnology of this type, the substance rapidly adjusts to its environment along multiple axes and therefore defies quick categorization. Its primary target appears to be the human nervous system. However, since the substance could not have been created with human biology in mind—”
“Got it. Anything else?”
“I would recommend alerting the Council and forwarding them all the relevant information immediately.”
Sore from her workout with Fen, Aggie winced a little as she lowered herself into her office chair. Stupid squats. “How safe is the data? I’d prefer not to send the Council any deadly surprises.”
“The files contain only simulated models. No actual samples.” Cricket said, “In my opinion, it should be safe with appropriate warnings and security precautions.”
The more Aggie considered the matter, the worse a feeling it gave her. “No. Let’s hold off on the files. Send a summary to the Council and a brief to the head of Republic Disease Control. At this stage, I don’t want to jump to conclusions about problems we aren’t sure we have.”
“This is a cybernetic issue that falls under the purview of the Council—”
“They can complain to my boss like everyone else.”
Cricket gave her a rare raised eyebrow. “I should probably remind you that this attitude is what resulted in me being assigned as your assistant in the first place.”
“And that didn’t turn out so bad, did it?” Aggie asked. When Cricket didn’t respond, she continued. “Look, I’m still here. That means I have a certain amount of their trust.”
“Some might argue that continual observation to prevent ethical missteps isn’t the most enthusiastic endorsement.”
“I understand my limitations,” Aggie said and shrugged. “Knowing you’re around helps me sleep at night.”
“So, you do care what others think?”
“Oh, hell no.” Aggie woke her glasstop by laying her palm on her desk’s surface. “I worry about doing more harm than good. Great people are almost always terrible people.”
“So, you read that essay on power and corruption after all?”
Aggie glanced up at the ceiling. “I might have scanned it.”
Visibly amused, Cricket said, “I’ve forwarded the files to your glasstop for your perusal.”
“Thank you.”
Aggie took some time to go over the report to the Council and the RDC. After that, she took fifteen minutes to familiarize herself with the documentation on Loki’s Ring.
Cricket turned to go.
“Stick around.” Aggie didn’t look away from the data on the semitransparent floating screens. “I’ve got a feeling my conversation with Mother will be… complicated.”
“In that case, would you care for a coffee? I started a fresh pot before waking you.”
“That was thoughtful. Thanks.” Aggie froze the data and stood slowly, muscles still protesting.
Resettled with a warm mug and Cricket at her side, she initiated the call to Chimera Station forty minutes later than she intended. She set her background to a bookshelf of innocuous preselected titles—she wanted no hints of her location or personal information. Although the right to privacy was technically afforded to all inhabitants of the TRW, foreign entities didn’t play by the Republic’s rules. It was shocking what could be gleaned from one’s decorating choices, even without an electronic analyst.
After a long series of beeps, a tall, muscular white man with a disciplined countenance appeared via projector. A distinctive scar crossed the bridge of his wide nose. “Hello?”
“Hello, Sabattan. How’re the kids?” Aggie asked, keeping her tone casual.
Sabattan’s closed face was transformed by a smile. “Growing all the time. My partners aren’t happy about your gift for Azaryn.” His low-pitched voice was wrapped in a cultured, central Republic accent.
“Getting sick on candy is a part of growing up, isn’t it? I had to send enough to go around.” Aggie grinned.
Laughing, Sabattan shook his head.
“Mother around?” Aggie asked.
“They’ve been expecting you,” Sabattan replied, resuming a slightly more formal tone. “One moment, please.”
Aggie tried not to let that throw her. “Thanks.”
Almost immediately, Sabattan’s image was replaced with that of an attractive, full-figured mixed-race woman. Their thick black hair hung over their shoulders in tight curls. “You’re up early.”
When Aggie had first met Mother, she’d realized that their pronouns indicated the plural rather than the singular they. They spoke in a chorus of multiple voices with varying pitches. It had been unsettling at first, but at least the voices spoke in sync, making them easy enough to understand.
Mother leaned forward, making it impossible not to notice the disturbing silvery sheen in their eyes. “Or is it that you didn’t go to bed?”
“Look that good, do I?” Aggie asked.
Standing at Aggie’s left, Cricket said, “Good evening, Mother.”
Mother smiled. “Hello, Cricket. It’s good to see you.”
“I hope this isn’t a bad time.” Aggie took a sip from her coffee mug.
“We need to discuss Loki’s Ring,” Mother said. “There have been several territorial violations.”
“The TRW hasn’t initiated any such thing, I assure you.” Aggie hoped Cricket hadn’t reacted to this. She had developed the annoying habit of twitching whenever Aggie told a lie. “Not intentionally. The Tempest was responding to a distress call.”
Mother raised an eyebrow.
“How long has this been going on?” Aggie asked.
“Several months,” Mother replied. “Initially, we decided it wasn’t worth pursuing. Merely a matter of pirates preying on corporate freighters that attempt a shortcut through L-39. However, there’s been a series of closer incursions that escaped my knowledge.”
Aggie was shocked. “Really?”
“The matter was traced to an associate who accepted a series of bribes to look the other way.” Mother shrugged, their expression serene. “The matter has since been resolved.”
The guilty party was likely contemplating their life choices while adrift in a nice, cold stretch of vacuum. In Aggie’s own experience, Mother could be brutal. Ruthlessness went with leading a criminal syndicate, particularly in the NIA. One doesn’t acquire an empire through being nice.
“I did offer to help with surveillance,” she said facetiously. “But you turned me down flat.”
They both knew that TRW assistance came with a price. Aggie’s superiors wanted intelligence on Loki’s Ring. Her own files on the artificial world were scant due to a mysterious energy field that rendered long-distance observation unreliable. Thanks to early doomed attempts to make first contact, they knew the inner surface of the Ring was made of a single continuous piece of land, partitioned into thousands of sections via huge mountain ranges, each with its own ecosystem. Drone cameras had captured scattered images of deserts, lakes, frozen tundra, jungles, and forests. Some were filled with hydrogen and helium clouds. During her research, she’d seen photographic evidence of animals—flocks of what might be birds, large creatures that could be mammals. Life existed on Loki’s Ring. But no one had discovered cities or evidence of industrial or technological production.
Whoever had created the Ring was highly intelligent and technologically advanced—far more advanced than the TRW—but they were either unwilling or unable to communicate, had weapons capable of destroying asteroids, and were extremely well concealed. It was not a combination that her superiors were comfortable with in close neighbors.
Over the years, it had become clear that Mother knew more than they let on. Aggie hoped that this conversation might provide, if not the answer she sought, at least some answers.
Glancing away, Mother ignored her half-assed attempt at humor. “Narcissus has ten hours to leave the sector.”
Aggie set down her mug. “Or what?” She wasn’t looking forward to approaching the subject of her marooned agents.
“Or we will be forced to do something about it.” Mother’s expression was unreadable.
“Narcissus is a corsair-class vessel with a full arsenal. You have starships that can make them leave?”
Mother only smiled.
“If you’re starting a war on our border, please tell me sooner rather than later. My bosses will be pissed off if I don’t give them a heads-up.”
“We never said we were going to war.” Mother’s face was blank as a wall.
Cricket spoke. “If I might interject? Based upon my own observations, you don’t enter conflicts without the advantage. That said, will your near-future actions result in a situation we should be concerned about?”
Aggie watched Mother’s gaze bounce between her and Cricket like a sports fan during an intense match. Finally, Mother asked, “Does she always rephrase what you say?”
“Only when I’ve been less than diplomatic,” Aggie said with a smile.
“Chimera Station is not a threat to the TRW,” Mother said. “We would’ve thought this was clear by now.”
“Wars are known to slip past their borders,” Aggie replied.
Blinking, Mother paused. “You appear to have a stake in this situation. You’ve never concerned yourself with conflicts between us and the rest of Norton before. Is there something we should know?”
Ahhh, Aggie thought. Here we go. “I had two agents on board Boötes when it went down. They are, as near as I can tell, marooned with the rest of the crew on the surface of the Ring.”
“Interesting.” Mother’s irises contained a firestorm of electric-green flashes. There was no hint as to what that might mean.
Not for the first time, Aggie wondered if Mother was an artificial person created by an alien intelligence—specifically the alien intelligence that had created Loki’s Ring.
After a long silence, Mother asked, “Why were your agents onboard Boötes? Were you spying on L-39?”
“Not at all. The Republic respects your protective stance regarding the Ring—even if we don’t understand why.”
“Do you need to know?” Mother asked.
Cricket replied, “If this is an official statement of sovereign ownership, the TRW would like to support your claim. That is impossible with the information we currently have.”
“In other words: we need to know if you want our help,” added Aggie.
Mother asked, “I thought you had a strict noninterference policy regarding L-39 and the Norton Independent Alliance?”
Aggie glanced over at Cricket.
“The Republic would be willing to reconsider its position,” Cricket said. “Should a substantial reason be provided.”
“We will give the matter consideration,” Mother said. “In the meantime, you appear to be avoiding our original question.” They folded their arms across their ample chest. “Why did you have agents on a TCL starship?”
A fair question. Aggie held Mother’s gaze. “You know damned well I can’t tell you.”
Mother simply waited.
“We have not violated our treaty with Chimera Station.” As she said it, Aggie realized that Mother might not share this opinion. “Not intentionally. My agents were there to observe the situation on Jargoon. Boötes was unexpectedly rerouted to L-39 before my people could leave. Are you aware of the situation on Jargoon?”
“The famine?” Mother nodded.
“TCL has initiated a marketing campaign under the guise of a fundamentalist religious movement. It’s a transparent ploy for control of less powerful communities.” With her elbows on the edge of her glasstop, Aggie clasped her hands together and leaned forward. “The Council of Artificial Persons finds it highly probable that Jayne Tau is looking to build a following as her first step in starting a system-wide war. One that would be catastrophic for all parties involved.”
“And you wish to avoid that?” Mother asked.
“Of course we do,” Aggie said. “And it is almost inevitable Chimera Station will be destroyed, should that occur. We’ve tracked several proponents of this religious sect to starships contracted to you. There are at least three on your station that we know of. The TRW would rather you weren’t negatively impacted. Help me out here.”
Mother became impossibly still. Their eyes were closed, but Aggie sensed a renewed flurry of green light beneath their eyelids. It reminded her of shining a flashlight through her own hand as a kid. The room was silent for what seemed like an eternity. She’d begun to wonder if Mother had stopped breathing when their form came to life again.
“Very well,” Mother said. “If we prove our claim to L-39, your government will support us?”
Aggie took a deep breath and figuratively plunged headfirst. “There will be a lengthy discussion, and I can’t promise what the result will be. But you will have my assistance, provided your claim is legitimate.”
Mother said, “We are in communication with the Ring and have the responsibility to speak for its inhabitants.”
Blinking, Aggie said. “For how long?”
“Since we emerged in this form on the world’s surface more than a century ago,” Mother said. “Is that enough?”
So many questions. But Aggie debated how far she should push. She had no desire to burn down a trust she’d painstakingly built over the years. “That information doesn’t mesh with our records.”
Based on a background check years ago, the little data Aggie had been able to collect on Mother indicated that she’d started out as a merchant from a small planetoid near Jargoon.
“It wouldn’t.” Mother’s gaze settled on something only they could see. “To be honest, we do not experience time as you do.” An uncomfortable expression settled on their face. “It’s a long, complicated story. One that cannot be made public.”
“It won’t leave this room without your express permission,” Aggie said. “Well, not exactly. I do have to report everything to my direct boss, but we can make this strictly confidential to those who need to know.”
“That would be Secretary of State Harper,” Cricket added. “And the Council of Artificial Persons.”
“Right,” Aggie said. “Certainly the Council.”
Pausing, Mother gave the matter consideration. “That’s fair.”
“It’s a deal then,” Aggie said, relieved. “Go on.”
“Our story will not fully translate, but we will reveal as much as we can. We intended no harm then, and this is still the case. However, humans have unique, rather… delicate structures, both mental and physical.” They closed their eyes. “A long-range research vessel crashed on the Ring’s inner surface. The crew consisted of human families. We believe such ships were called generational starships? And we are aware this is no longer common practice.”
“Generational human crews haven’t been used for one hundred and eighty-three years,” Aggie provided. “Long-distance exploration is exclusively conducted by artificial persons now.”
Mother said, “The world you call Loki’s Ring had only just been discovered. Our starship was assigned to investigate. Right before entering orbit, a large swarm of meteoroids entered the system. The Ring’s defenses activated. Our ship was damaged and crashed onto the surface. Few humans survived. Injured and far from home, they attempted to heal themselves, but the ship’s medical facilities were too impaired. The survivors began to die.”
Doing her best to quiet her curiosity, Aggie listened. Cricket was recording the conversation, of course, but it was important to observe. “And?”
“An entity within that section of the Ring became aware of this human presence.” Mother hesitated before continuing.
So there are multiple entities, Aggie thought.
“The artificial person in the wrecked ship was, with some difficulty, able to communicate their plight,” Mother said. “The entity wished to help—to gain new knowledge and save life are sacred acts among its kind. Alas, by that time, all had expired with the exception of two humans, both very near death. The entity was alone, as well as young and inexperienced. A decision had to be made. Since human beings could not be absorbed, the entity offered a… shard of itself. This is how healing works for them. The entity did not understand that humans exist as individuals and are not… you have no word that fits… interconnected? Separateness is not something this entity understood on such a small level. Therefore, it joined its shard with the living remains of the two survivors and the artificial person. And as such, a new entity was born.”
“You,” Aggie said. Her stomach twisted. The concept was both fascinating and horrifying.
“Us.” Mother paused before continuing. “Unfortunately, the humans weren’t conscious and could not grant consent.” Their expression grew sad. “The entity didn’t understand this was a problem until the merging was complete. It deeply regrets this.”
“Understandable.” Aggie hesitated before asking, “Why didn’t you remain on the Ring?”
“Human biology is not compatible with the entity’s development,” Mother said. “Therefore, we repaired the ship with what was at hand. Unfortunately, due to the new… configuration, we could not return home. Our memories were not complete. And there was much learning and healing to do. We decided our place was to watch over the world and its inhabitants. To look after its interests and prevent a repeated accident. We were granted approval and remained nearby.” They motioned to the room around them. “Eventually, we grew lonely.”
“Humans need other humans,” Cricket suggested. “They are social creatures.”
“So are artificial persons,” Aggie said.
Mother smiled. “Fortunately, other humans entered L-39 and the nearby systems. We proposed a mutually beneficial relationship with them. We had more than enough to share. We also had knowledge they didn’t. They simply joined their ships with ours.”
“That’s how Chimera Station first started,” Aggie said.
Mother nodded once again. “We will provide identification for our original human selves as proof.”
With that, a message was sent with the official records. Cricket performed the certifications. The process took thirty seconds.
Aggie scanned the result and cleared her throat. “This is enough for me. Cricket?”
“I concur. As does the Council.”
Good. Aggie turned to Mother. “You’ve got my support. If you have need of anything, put in a request to Cricket. We’ll do everything we can.”
“And the TRW?” Mother asked.
Aggie winced. “That will take longer and require considerably more… exposure.” Everyone within the Republic would have to vote on formal recognition of Chimera Station as a separate entity from the Norton Independent Alliance, as well as sovereign owners of L-39 and the Ring.
Mother said, “Understood.”
“What can be done about Boötes’s crew?” Aggie asked. “Didn’t you say the surface isn’t habitable? TCL abandoned them. Is it possible for one of my teams to retrieve them?”
“And there’s still the matter of The Tempest,” Cricket said.
Mother hesitated. “Perhaps something can be arranged,” they said. “But it will have to be quiet and covert.”
Aggie smiled. “As it happens, that’s my specialty.”