Jane stood, fully awake now, blood pumping at an alarming rate, and left the room, heading for the nearest deck transport, ready to go wherever she was needed. As she strode down the hall, Ei’Brai showed her how he’d already begun to organize the squillae in every sector of the ship to police the neural-electric pathways in search and destroy mode.
Alan interjected, “That’s not enough, Jane. They’ve already missed a few of these before—and these things are capable of rapid replication, using whatever materials are at hand. They will miss them again. Eventually we’re going to go boom—unless we get rid of all of them at the same time. It’s the only way, Jane.”
She’d heard this argument before.
As well as Ei’Brai’s rebuttal, which he began anew, “Unnecessary and imprudent. Entire sectors of the Speroancora would experience explosive decompression from the Coelusha limax infestation, alone. Every system on board would be affected—repair and maintenance would be impossible. That course of action would have far-reaching consequences.”
“More far reaching than blowing all this shit up? Really? Come on! This would only be short term,” Alan insisted. “We can make more nanites.”
“You underestimate the amount of time it would take to repopulate the ship. You would leave us in a vulnerable state for, at minimum, a complete revolution around this star,” Ei’Brai protested.
Jane hesitated in the deck transport, not sure where she was going.
Alan countered, “Jane—listen to me. I’ve only scratched the surface on this code and let me tell you, it was written by some devious bastards who did not want to be identified under any circumstances. We now know there were at least two different ways they intended to kill everyone onboard this ship. Who’s to say there aren’t three more ways to die programmed into these things? Every second we delay, we’re gambling. What if these damned things are already working on life support or the engines or something I can’t even think of yet? Jane—”
Jane held up a hand as she came to a firm decision. It was time to exercise her new role. “Ok. I’ve heard enough. We’ll do it. Begin the preparation for an ionic burst, Ei’Brai.”
His voice was acquiescent, “Acknowledged.”
Jane felt a small measure of relief followed up by trepidation. This really was up to her.
Ei’Brai continued, quietly, “All Speroancora binary processors are locally shielded to varying degrees. However, most of the vessel relies on the escutcheon—external hull shielding. With your permission I will work to augment local shielding while simultaneously disabling the escutcheon. Such a precaution will take some small amount of time, but will greatly augment future probability of survival as we go forward.”
Jane saw that he was troubled about deactivating the escutcheon. It was a risk, but that couldn’t be helped. “Yes, of course. We should protect the computers and anything else that could be affected. You did say the ionic burst will be harmless for living things, though, right? We’re not going to be exposed to radiation or anything are we?”
“We shouldn’t,” Alan cut in testily. “Tell him to show me what he’s going to do.”
Jane smiled and bit her lip at the mental glower Ei’Brai emanated, as he illustrated how he would modify the ship’s engines to create a burst of positively charged ions and send it on a magnetic wave coursing through every corner of the ship. The minute circuitry of every single squillae aboard would be overwhelmed and rendered inert, useless, effectively dead.
“Ironically, it is the squillae that will perform this preventive work. Pay close attention to the details, Dr. Alan Bergen. You may be required to reverse these changes manually, without squillae to perform such functions,” Ei’Brai commented reproachfully.
Alan responded without antipathy, completely enthralled with the images and concepts Ei’Brai presented. “Understood,” he replied eagerly.
Jane watched with amusement as their interaction changed from antagonistic to one of esteemed teacher and earnest student.
She hated to interrupt them. Her stomach churned with nerves, but she put an authoritative note in her mental voice. “There’s just one more thing we have to do, before the ionic burst.”
26
Jane perched herself upon the front edge of the oversized command chair and scooted back with a distinct lack of grace. It reminded her of being a child in an adult’s chair and she was glad there were no other eyes on her. She’d have to work out a more dignified way to manage the seat eventually. It had some mechanism of adjustment, but she was too nervous to mess with it at the moment.
The bridge of the ship felt absurdly large with only Jane’s solitary presence. She plucked and tugged at the complex latch to strap herself into the seat and noted there were four rows of glittering consoles and their corresponding empty seats in front of her as well as a large screen broadcasting the image of some asteroids and a distant grey ball she assumed was Jupiter. Ei’Brai had told her she didn’t need to physically be on the bridge, but it seemed like that was where she needed to be.
Her muscles ached with tension, but she was ready. If this went poorly, she had her seat belt on at least, she thought, shaking her head. Ei’Brai was waiting for her to begin, a palpable sense of excitement permeating his communiques.
She gave the command.
The bridge receded instantaneously. Her thoughts plummeted to the bowels of the ship with a sickening lurch. Time slowed to what felt like minutes between heartbeats.
She felt the engines flare to life—a white-out that temporarily blinded her. The ship rumbled around her, through her. The heat made her vision hazy. Something was spinning, momentum was building…microseconds ticked by…the energy actively transmuted to force and then to motion.
They were underway.
She could sense the movement herself, through him.
A triumphant laugh bubbled up out of her. She trembled, gripping the command console with white knuckles. I am doing it!
She felt a release of tension from Ei’Brai. He, too, reveled in the sensation of movement. Waves of approval flowed over her.
And from the third party within the Anipraxic circle, she heard wordless cheering. Warmth and pride gushed from Alan. She heard him utter, the whispered words caroming around inside her head but not really taking hold, “That’s my girl!”
Ei’Brai fed her the complex equations needed to move through three-dimensional space. Jane comprised the personification of the physical relay that was necessary between Ei’Brai and the ship’s computer to execute them.
She breathed deeply, striving to juggle this new level of control while staying in touch with herself and her surroundings. The distance closed quickly. The capsule came into view on the large screen in front of her. It was time to add another level of complexity to the mix.
“Please reestablish communications with Providence, Ei’Brai.” she commanded crisply.
“Hailing, Qua’dux Jane Holloway.”
Jane straightened in her seat, concentrating on the image of Providence. Ei’Brai sifted through data coming from arrays of sensors that converged on the capsule.
She was beginning to see the advantage of the Anipraxic link. It was pure genius, really. It reduced the amount of information that had to be articulated out loud—it was all right there—information streaming in real time. If Ei’Brai noted anything of importance, she knew it immediately. When every second counted, that could save lives.