Hold the Star: Samair in Argos: Book 2 (45 page)

              “If I could blush, I think I would be doing that now,” Stella said with a smirk.  “So what are you getting at?”

              “Well, in Ulla-tran, we took out several of the local warships using malware packages that caused their systems to shut down.  Why can’t we do the same thing to the disruptor?”

              Stella pursed her lips.  “Well, I admit it’s something I hadn’t considered.  At time, the malware package was designed by one of the engineering team, Lorcan, so he and I would need to get together to try and work on this.  There is one serious problem that I can see about this plan.”

              “Oh, only one?” Turan joked.

              Stella smiled.  “Well, obviously, if it isn’t done right, she’d be hit by that lethal shock we talked about.”

              “Obviously we’d like to avoid that if at all possible,” Turan indicated.  “I know that Tamara would like to avoid that after all she’s already been through.”

              “I can agree with that.”  Stella went on.  “But the other problem is that if it isn’t done right, the malware might infect her implants and burn them out right along with the disruptor.”

              Turan blinked his very large eyes.  “Well, I’m also sure that she wouldn’t like that.  In fact I don’t think any of us would benefit from that.  If she burns out her implants, she’ll lose her access codes, which means that the captain and all the engineers will lose their replicator support.”

              Stella’s eyes widened.  “That would not be good.  All of the Captain’s money-making plans depend on those replicators.”  She paused, pursing her lips.  “We can’t fix the ship without them.”

              “Then we really need to make sure that anything we do specifically targets the disruptor and leaves her own implants alone.”

              “I can’t do that without at least a little of her help, Doctor,” Stella hedged.

              Turan blatted a chuckle.  “Oh, please, Stella.  Yes, Tamara is very good at the software side of things but I know you are too.  You might be able to handle this without anyone’s help.”

              “Well, you’ll forgive me, Doctor, but I think that for now we need to focus on the problem at hand and start getting things ready for our first implant recipient.”

              The Guura nodded, leaning more comfortably in his chair.  “Yes, perhaps you’re right.  Very well.  Let’s talk about the level one implant.  What more will we need to get them installed?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

              Tamara came to the wardroom, took a breath to steady her nerves and then opened the hatch and stepped inside.  The Captain was seated in his normal place at the table, going over what looked like reports on his display there.  He looked up as she entered.

              “Samair,” he said, frowning.  “Did I miss a comm?  Did we have a meeting?”

              She shook her head.  “No, Captain.  But I do think I have something we need to discuss.”

              He set down his stylus and his datapad.  “Okay.  Why do I get the feeling that I’m not going to like this.”

              “Actually, I think you will, Captain,” Tamara replied, seating herself at the table.

              “Fire away.”

              “Turan, Stella and I have been working on the first generation of level one implants,” she replied.  Reaching into a pocket, she removed a plastic packet the size of her palm, within was a tiny device only just bigger than a grain of rice.  “And here it is.  First off the production line.”

              Vincent blinked in surprise.  “When did this get made?”

              “About an hour ago.  The three of us have been working through the ins and outs for about a week.  We brought Quesh in yesterday and he looked everything over and signed off on it.”

              “May I see it?”

              She nodded.  “Of course.”  And she slid it across the table.

              Picking it up, he blinked again.  “It’s so light,” he marveled.

              Tamara laughed.  “Well of course it’s light.  That’s going to be surgically implanted into your arm.  What did you expect, that it would be made from depleted uranium?”

              He frowned at her.  “No.  But I guess I really didn’t know what implants were.  I was expecting something bigger.  Something… well, impressive.  This looks like… “

              She smiled at how uncomfortable he looked.  “A joke?”

              He looked at the grain of rice.  “Well, yeah.”  Then he frowned.  “You didn’t get this from Noken down in the mess hall, did you?” he asked suspiciously.

              Tamara glared at him.  “While I will admit in the heyday of the Navy, I might have been willing to participate in the kind of prank you’re suggesting.  But to be honest, it didn’t occur to me.  That there is the real thing.”  She shrugged.  “It’s only the level one version but it’s a start.”

              A smile slowly spread across his face.  “All right then.  When does it happen?”

              “You’re the first to get it, Captain,” Tamara replied.  “Turan said that whenever you’re ready, we can do this.  In fact, if you have twenty minutes right now, we can get the implant in and the nanites activated.”

              “Nanites?” he asked, slightly alarmed.

              She chuckled lightly.  “They won’t hurt you, Captain.  They’re designed to make the pathway between that implant and your thumb and the jack that they will create in your thumb.”

              “And it doesn’t hurt?”  He looked a little nervous.

              “No,” she said, shaking her head.  “Well, it’ll tingle for about a day.  The device is implanted here,” she said, pointing to just below her own wrist on her right hand, “and it’s going to tingle and you’ll get this weird itching sensation that goes from the implantation site to your thumb.  In the past, as I understand it, the recipient would be sedated and just sleep through the build stage.  Mostly just to keep them from digging through their arm with their fingernails because of the itching.”

              “You’re not making me feel all that confident, Samair.”

              “I’m making it sound a lot worse than it really is, Captain.  It itches for about a day or so and then you don’t even know it’s there anymore.”  She raised an eyebrow.  “You don’t need to worry, Captain.  I
am
the person who would be in the know about this.”

              He nodded.  “All right.  Let’s do this.  Is Turan ready now?”

              Tamara stood.  “Let’s head down to sickbay, Captain.  Like I said before, twenty minutes and you’ll be back up here going through paperwork.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

              As Tamara had said, it was a very simple operation.  In fact, the word “operation” was a bit of a misnomer.  Turan sat the Captain down on the edge of one of the beds in sickbay and had him roll up his sleeve.  With an injector gun, he pressed the muzzle of the gun to the skin just below the inside of his wrist and depressed the trigger.  There was a click, the Captain winced at a sharp pinch of pain and then it was done.  The Guura was wiping the injection site with a swab of disinfectant and then running a scanner over his arm.

              “It’s looking good, Captain,” the doctor told him.  “The implant went straight into the target site and the nanites are unspooling nicely.  Go ahead and make a fist.  Are you in any pain?”

              The Captain followed direction, clenching and unclenching his fist.  “No, it feels a little weird.  I can feel the implant in there, but it doesn’t hurt.”  He flexed in fingers a few more times.  “Now it feels normal.”  He looked at the place where the injection was done and the wound was gone.  “It’s healed!”             

              Turan chuckled.  “The nanites fixed up the wound, Captain.  And they’re already working to build the pathway and the jack.”

              Vincent nodded.  “All right, so Tamara, you’re the one who’s in the know,” he said, looking over to her.  “How do I use this thing?”  He held up his hand.

              “Well,” she said, gathering her thoughts.  “You don’t have a HUD with level one implants.  Most of the consoles that you would use to access the information will have implant jacks in them, certainly the ones on the ship, anyway.  From what few that I’ve seen on the station, a few of the shops there have ones that you can use.  Basically, you press your thumb to the access jack and the information you want will appear on the display.  If you’re paying for something, thumbing the jack will make the payment.  You can also add or subtract data from the memory core.”

              “How much is in there?”

              “It isn’t a huge amount,” she cautioned.  “Quite a large amount if it’s text data, considerably less if you record audio, pictures or video.  But right now, it will contain your personal data, medical info, and banking information.  That’s bare bones.”  Tamara gestured to him.  “It will certainly make your interactions with Ganner and Saiorse easier.”

              He nodded.  He was still clenching and unclenching his fist.  “It doesn’t feel weird anymore.”

              Turan nodded again.  “Just let me know if there’s any problems.  Call me right away.  Now, it’ll tingle and it might itch, but otherwise, it should be fine.  If you feel
anything
, any pain, you get your captainly ass back into my sickbay right away.  Am I clear?”

              Vincent smirked.  “Yes, sir,” he said, giving a sloppy salute.  He stood and walked out.

              “Stella, can you make sure you keep an eye on him?” Tamara asked.  “I know the internal sensors aren’t one hundred percent throughout the ship, but how are the ones in the wardroom and his quarters?”

              “There aren’t any in his quarters, Tamara,” the AI’s voice came from the comm unit on the bulkhead.

              “Well, do the best you can.  Can’t you hack a datapad or something?” Turan asked.

              Stella sighed.  “I can try.  I think you’re both overreacting here.”

              Turan raised both of his flipper hands, palm up.  “Perhaps, Stella.  But this is the first time we’re doing this.  If everything goes like clockwork, then I’ll have you off the spy duties.”

              “Thanks,” she replied.  Then there was a click and the comm disconnected.

              Turan turned his gaze to Tamara.  She noted that the Guura looked slightly worried.  “You
do
think everything will go as planned, don’t you?”

              Tamara snorted.  “Unless the three of us screwed up by the numbers and I find that very hard to believe, then he should be fine.  I’ll admit that the first time is the scariest and that you’re right to exercise such caution.  But after this one, we’ll just have the recipient keep in touch with us and call in if there’s a problem.  Maybe report in every eight hours or so to have it checked on.”  She looked off at one of the bulkheads, not really seeing it.  “It’s the level twos that are going to give problems.”

              “Problems?”

              “Well, more that there will be complications and such.  Longer recovery times.”

              “I’ve read through the literature.  I think it will be a little while before I’m ready to move up to that.”

              She shrugged.  “I know.  And I know we’re going to want to get the level ones squared away before we start working on level twos.”

              “We’ve got how many of the level ones?”

              “One hundred and six,” Tamara replied.  “More than enough to get everyone in the crew.”  She eyed him.  “So, are you ready to be the second guinea pig?”

              “I’ll give the Captain six hours, if nothing comes up, then I’ll have one of the nurses give me the injection,” Turan said.  “That should be more than enough time to see if there’s going to be any problems.”

              Tamara shrugged.  “I’m no doctor, but that sounds about right.”             

              Three days later, Vincent Eamonn was just settling down into his bed in his stateroom when the comm panel chimed.  With a groan, he leaned over and slapped the panel, making sure to keep the visual pickup off.  “Eamonn here,” he said.

              Gresca, the new Severite communications specialist, came over the channel.  Her voice was much lower, a throaty purr Vincent didn’t usually associate with those of the diminutive cat-like race.  “Sorry to disturb you, Captain.  We have a transmission from the station for you.  An Administrator Galina.”

              Eamonn sighed.  “Put her through.”

              “You’re set for audio only, sir,” Gresca protested.

              “I know.  Put her through on audio only.  I’ll switch to video pickup in a minute.”

              “Yes, sir.”  There was a beep.

              “Administrator,” Eamonn said.  “How can I help you?”  He crawled out of bed, pulling on his robe from edge of the bed where he’d dropped it.  He dropped in the chair at his small table and activated the visual display.  The lupusan’s face appeared in the display.