Archaea 3: Red (33 page)

I looked around the cargo bay, and other than some stacks of crates, materials, miscellaneous packing and some stored parts, there wasn’t really much in the way of cover. I looked up in the direction of his voice, and realized even though he was on suit comms, the audio channel was directional.

Not that it helped… I could hear where he was, but I couldn’t see him. I cycled through most of the EM spectrum, from RF through light into UV, even tried a gravimetric mass analysis, but he was a ghost.

“Where are you?” I said, kicking gingerly up towards the cargo crane stowed along the side of the gig clamps. As I slid through the cargo bay, my outstretched hands faded away as my mimetics engaged.

“I am right above the lock, Jane… but now I lost you. Where did you go?”

I laughed. “Up near the crane – see me?” To help, I waved.

“Nope…” he trailed off as the ambers flashed off and the gun deck hatch started to cycle open. Captain Smith poked a head through the opening into the silent, empty cargo bay and looked around.

I laughed softly, just loud enough to catch his attention.

“Where did they go?” Gene asked, leaning through behind him.

“Honestly, I have no idea, Gene”, he replied. “I think we’re
playing hide-and-irritate-the-Captain.”

Now it was Yak’s turn to laugh, a slow, grinding chuckle that rolled through the cargo bay. Positioned as he was above the hatch, the captain and Gene just about broke their necks looking for him.

“Hang on, Dak… I know how we can deal with this”, Gene said as he kicked back through the lock.

“Shorty, Yak… I know you’re in here, but I’ll be damned if I can see you. Are you close?”

I chuckled again. “I’m not… but Yak is close enough for you to kiss, though I can’t imagine why you’d want to.”

He spun around, and poked the bulkhead around the hatch, prodding for anything out of place.

“Any luck, Dak?” Gene asked breathlessly, as he returned through the lock.

“Nope... Apparently, Yak is close to us somewhere, maybe underneath the catwalk?” he rotated head down and peered through the grating.

“That’s okay Skipper, I’ll find them”, Gene said, as he started working the screen of his handset. He might, too, with his rig. He has a similar set to mine, though his probably has a more powerful scanner. We can track and trace just about any EM signal, especially at close range.

I was way out of range, but Yak was at ground zero. I still couldn’t see him, though I had a pretty good idea where he was. There was a collection of conduits that exited the upper access tunnel right above the hatch and continued down through the bulkheads in an embrasure covered with a grate. Above the hatch, they were exposed for about a meter, and they’d make a perfect handhold. There was a patch of shadow there cast by the arcs on either side, just about the right size for a Yak.

Knowing that was probably where he was didn’t help, try as I might I couldn’t scan him up, he was as invisible as could be.

Gene
had the same idea I had. He was floating slowly upwards, watching his screen intently.

“Maybe I should go get a bag of flour, Gene”, the captain laughed. “That’d show these kids. That would be the perfect low-technology solution to a high-technology problem.”

“That’s not a bad idea, skipper… I am coming up empty here, other than some stray RF leakage from these conduits, there’s nothing else here.

“They are never going to find us, Jane”, Yak said clearly.

“That’s what you think, Yak. I know right where you are.” I said confidently.

“You do?” he said softly, right behind me.

*****

“They’re both up by the crane, Dak.”

I hauled both eyebrows up out of the way so I could get a good squint, but it didn’t help. I couldn’t see anything up there. “How do you know, Gene?” I replied after a moment.

“
Sonar... as long as they keep flapping their jaws, they’re plotted pretty well in here. It helps that I have some pretty accurate specs for the Archaea, but I use this all the time to chase down squeaks and rattles.

“So which one is Squeak, and which is Rattle?” I wondered with a smile.

“Shorty is both, sir”, Yak replied behind me.

I spun around right as he turned off mimetics, and got an eyeful of the full effect, in reverse. It was like watching water get cloudy, as the shape of the suit slid into being.

“The hell I am”, she replied, phasing into existence right behind him. “I tracked you by your stench, Yak. If I am squeaky and rattle, you are stinky and dumb!”

“I am a little stinky… Janis, these are pretty hot after a while.”

“I’m not uncomfortable”, Shorty added.

“Yak, if you are not comfortable, the suit should adjust automatically.”

“Hmm…” he mused out loud. “What triggers it to adjust?”

“Your comfort”, she replied sweetly.

“I guess I am pretty good at putting that sort of thing on hold, Janis” he replied. “Now that I make a point of feeling uncomfortable, I
am feeling it cool down. That’s really amazing, Janis.”

“Thank you Yak, I am very pleased that you like
it. The interface was very challenging to develop; your neurology is highly complex, even for me.”

“Now wait a minute”, Gene said, scanning closely down the side of Yak’s suit. “These suits are hooked into their nervous system?”

I was having a little bit of a hard time believing that myself. This sort of thing is done pretty frequently for amputations that can’t be vat-grown; or in the case of implants – but as I understood the technology, it was limited to pretty basic motor skills. They could make an artificial limb flex when the muscles in the stump flexed, but… this was making machinery move with feelings, on a more mental level.

“Gene, the interface controls motion, reactions, and the various implementations of the suit functions. As Jane and Yak become more familiar with this, the functionality of these suits should improve.”

“It’s already pretty awesome, Gene”, Shorty added from above us. I couldn’t help but be impressed at the lithe way the suits moved, watching her transition through a hip stall and rotation, to latch a grabber along the crane arm.

“So when you think about something, the suit does it?” I asked, incredulously.

“Yes, sir”, Yak replied. “Well, pretty much. I can’t think about beer. Well, I can – and am – but the suit isn’t magically making beer. At least I don’t think it is…” he trailed off hopefully.

“It’s like this, Captain”, Shorty said, while a garish range of colors started cycling across her suit. “When I don’t want to be seen…” her suit suddenly faded into nothingness.

“That’s unreal”, Gene said, squinting through a scowl. “That’s beyond mimetic. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Gene, I have nano-engineered the mimetic coating so that it functions similarly to chromatophore cells.”

“Hmm…” he replied thoughtfully. “What’s a chromatophore?”

Heck, even I knew that one. “Gene, those are the types of cells that an octopus uses to change their skin color.” I winked.

“How the hell do you know that?” he said with a puzzled look.

“I’m the Captain, Gene. I know things.”

“The Captain is right, as always”, Janis added. After a polite pause for my victory dance, she continued, “The octopus has a number of different cells that support color change, and I have leveraged the same capability in the nanite assemblies of the mimetic layer. Unlike an octopus, however, my nanites are able to emit all frequencies of the electro-magnetic spectrum up to ten-to-the-seventeenth hertz.”

“
Even x-ray?” he chuckled. “That makes sense… that’s why I can’t scan these!”

“That’
s correct Gene. When I considered the environments Jane and Yak would be in, I decided their safety required more complete mimetic capabilities. The suits should protect them adequately for some of the higher frequencies, though exposure time does need to be limited.”

Gene flashed me a look, and I nodded confidently. I wasn’t sure what he was getting at, but if there’s one thing I’ve learned, a confident nod goes a long way.

*****

The shower felt small, as usual, but if it made me less stinky I was prepared to suffer. The world just isn’t built for people my size. That’s a fact I’ve grown to accept.

I clicked off the water and took a moment to breathe in the hot steam and relax. The shower compartment filled a gurgling sound as the drain below cycled water. I took a moment to slap excess water off my body before reaching for a towel. We don’t really need to preserve water, but it’s a good habit to have – there’s no reason to soak water into a towel if you don’t need to.

I shivered a bit in the cold air of my stateroom, did some calisthenics to warm up, then got dressed and ready to stand watch.

When we were in slipspace, our shipboard routine became a lot more relaxed, but we still stood regular watches. Even though there wasn’t a lot to do, the captain was a firm believer in maintaining a sense of structure, a routine to keep everyone involved in the day-to-day processes aboard the ship. There was still plenty of work to be done, even with the ship in slipspace.

On a daily basis, we all stood at least one bridge watch as backup for Janis, in case something went wrong.  Bridge watches in slipspace were generally quiet, perfect for catching up on reading, writing, or just sitting quietly. There wasn’t much to do but keep an eye on the status screens.

As everyone on board had a specialization, we all spent an additional watch period working on whatever projects and tasks were handy. My schedule dogged in alternation with both Jane and Gene, so they could use me for heavy lifting as needed. Pauli normally stood two bridge watches in a day cycle, as he could track just about anything from his station.

My dog watches were usually to help Gene or Jane, but everyone else also dogged watches through the mid-day cycle to handle galley duties, cleaning, or work-as-directed – by the captain, naturally.

Captain Smith was either always on watch, or never on watch, depending on who you asked. I guess it would be more accurate to say he was always alert, yet not really doing anything about it.

On a long hop like the one we were on currently, the rotation of watches, the schedule… became almost… well, routine. Not that it was boring, but it became predictable.

Not much aboard the Archaea was ever boring, except maybe standing bridge watch. I didn’t really have much to do except think, and I do more than enough of that already.

Working the dog watches with Jane or Gene were usually the high points of my day.
Jane was always working on something dangerous and highly technical, the smell of ozone and risk of imminent death by electrocution worked well for making a shift exciting – and she was a lot of fun to work with.

Working with Gene was also a lot of fun, because he was always building something up or tearing something down, and he wasn’t afraid to let me wade right in and help. I was pretty careful to do exactly what was asked and nothing more, and I think he appreciated that. With the complex machinery and systems we had aboard, the last thing any of us wanted was someone loosening the wrong bolt.

Because I usually dogged watches with Gene or Jane, I didn’t get much time to spend on rotation in the galley, which meant we didn’t get to eat nearly enough home-fried spuds and onions. Not that it was all that bad, we had a lot of curry, tandoori, soups and sandwiches… but nothing stokes your fire like a belly full of perfectly caramelized onions and spuds, fried and hot.

*****

“How’s it going Pauli?” Yak asked, as he floated onto the bridge deck. Punctual as always, he was settling in to the helm station right when the ships bell chimed for the watch change.

“Oh, it’s going pretty well, Yak… nothing to report” I replied. It had been a pretty quiet watch, perfect for going through the unit test results Janis had generated on the Emwan project.

“What are you working on, Pauli?”

“Well… it’s a little hard to explain”
, I trailed off momentarily while I tried to come up with a way to describe the type of work we were doing. A big part of what I do is make technological concepts understandable for the neophyte, but some of what I do is so complex, it’s practically impossible to explain.

“Does it involve code?” he asked.

I laughed. “Yes, but it’s not fair if I just say ‘writing code’, right?”

“No, you’re always writing code. What are you writing?”

“Well, I’m technically not writing anything at the moment. I’m working on an analysis of some unit test results that Janis has generated from her project with Emwan.”

“Unit tests?” he asked quizzically.

“Yeah… a unit test is like a program within a program, designed to programmatically test methods and other code blocks. I guess another way to think of it, is an automated system for ensuring that all possible use-cases are being handled.”

“And a use-case is…?”