Right Ascension (The Sector Fleet, Book 3) Page 12

“Has the work been checked?”

  “I’m not sure, ma’am.”

  This was unusual, but perhaps, considering the idiosyncrasies of leaseholders and mayors, not entirely out of the realm of possibility. Still, it required a follow up at the very least, in case something was going on at their end of the deck that may impact the bridge.

  “All right, leave it with me, Gāo,” I said. “Good work bringing it to my attention.”

  The lieutenant straightened and saluted, and then executed a perfect parade ground about turn and left the room. I tapped the top of my desk with a finger while I thought about things.

  “Corvus,” I said.

  “Yes, Captain?” She sounded attentive, but entirely too happy for an AI. “How may I help you?” That was new, and for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out why she’d bothered saying it. It was as if the AI was trying to be more professional. More…grown up, all of a sudden.

  I dismissed the thought and asked, “Can you tell me if anything unusual is happening in the leaseholder’s section of Deck A?”

  “Negative, Captain. Repairs have been made and await engineering approval.”

  “Why hasn’t engineering approved them yet.”

  “I am unsure, Captain. The communication was carried out verbally and I…missed it.”

  Now she sounded like she might cry.

  “It’s OK; I’ll ask the chief.”

  Maybe it was nothing, but Gāo was a good officer. And being the first shift tactical officer, he was also very astute when it came to potential threats to the ship and its inhabitants.

  “Get me engineering on the wall, please, Corvus,” I said.

  “Yes, Captain.” At least she wasn’t about to cry anymore.

  Lieutenant Lebedev’s weathered face appeared on the wall in the next minute. He straightened his shoulders and offered a stiff salute with a grease-covered hand.

  “Enough of that, Chief,” I said. “I think we can dispense with that sort of thing while conversing through a gel wall.”

  He chuckled. “It does seem an informal way to communicate, Captain.”

  “As long as it’s secure, I don’t care.”

  “It is secure, Captain,” Corvus supplied.

  “Excellent,” I said. “So, tell me, Chief, why did communications with the mayor regarding the repairs to the leaseholder’s quarters get carried out verbally?”

  It hadn’t occurred to me until that very moment that the verbal communication could have been to avoid recording it. The gel wall wasn’t our usual method of communication on board the ship, but it was still monitored by Corvus. Recorded. Noted. Not missed.

  Lebedev scratched his head, no doubt getting the strands matted with grease.

  “I’m not really sure, ma’am. The mayor sent a lackey down to convey his wishes, and I just naturally told the lackey my reply. I didn’t think much about it at the time. And I admit, I haven’t had a chance to update my log yet.”

  “See to the update, Chief. And be sure to communicate via correct channels from now on.”

  He ducked his head. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “That wasn’t actually why I was getting touch, though,” I admitted. He looked back up at me, waiting. “The repairs.”

  Lebedev suddenly looked angry. He was a big man, with hard features that had he not had a multitude of laugh lines around his eyes and mouth would have made him look intimidating. I knew for a fact that the chief had a sense of humour. And a liking for a good bet. It was one of those things a commander had to keep an eye on, but also choose to let slip if the betting wasn’t interfering with operations. Crew needed an outlet, and I had the feeling Lebedev’s gambling was purely on the release-of-tension side of the divide.

  “That’s the thing. The mayor keeps delaying things,” the chief said.

  I stared at Lebedev for a second, then said, “Meet me in the mayoral hub in five minutes. I think we need to pay the mayor and leaseholder an impromptu visit to check on things.”

  “Yes, ma’am. Five minutes.”

  The gel wall cleared and was replaced with a bonsai tree. I had yet to get my Tower of London.

  I was very familiar with the lease, having played a large part in writing it. But I still took a minute to recheck a clause or two before I departed. I contemplated getting Lieutenant Itō from security to accompany us, but that would send an antagonising message. And we were already invading a part of the ship that, had Corvus been a city, would have been considered the equivalent of foreign soil.

  I wasn’t sure if the mayor and leaseholder were up to something, or whether this was all a storm in a teacup. But the human resources manager in me felt it prudent to make sure. We were set to test our engines at 2300 hours, at which time we’d become far more visible to scanners. If Aquila had moved back through the asteroid field to us, then the AI would have no trouble finding us.

  We needed all systems functioning, including the civilian side of the equation.

  I walked out into the central hub to find the chief waiting for me. He had a toolkit, datapad, and scanner with him. He glanced over my shoulder as if looking for something. Possibly security. The fact that the chief of engineering felt an itch between his shoulder blades had me second guessing my decision not to bring Itō.

  Too late now. I nodded my head to the chief and marched toward the mayor’s side of the deck, which in turn led onto the leaseholder’s quarters. I expected some resistance along the way. I did not expect to find where the missing private security force was hiding.

  Half a dozen Nowak Enterprises guards stood in a line before the entryway to the mayor’s offices. It wasn’t so much that they were there, aside from the fact that the mayor’s offices should be readily available to any of the civilian population and having any sort of guard would make them very much not approachable. But that he was using Nowak’s men at all.

  And then I thought perhaps Nowak was inside with the mayor and that would explain the over-the-top security force here.

  One of the guards stepped forward and held out his palm for us to stop.

  “Do you have an appointment?” the guard asked in heavily accented English.

  “The captain and chief engineer to see the mayor,” I said. “And while we’re at it, we’ll have a word with the leaseholder if he’s here.”

  A look flashed over the guard’s face. There one second and gone the next. But it had been mirrored by the rest of the Nowak security force with him.

  Pain. Worry. All manner of unhappy and impotent things.

  As the mayor was the one to walk out of his offices, I was pretty sure the emotions I’d seen were for the leaseholder and not him.

  Something was very wrong with Felip Nowak.

  Twenty-Four

  Living Is Fun

  Leo

  “This all looks normal to me,” I said, shifting my attention to another section of Corvus’ systems.

  We were going through them one by one, and so far, ten solid hours later, we hadn’t found any trace of Aquila.

  But then, we hadn’t delved into the communications system yet.

  “Do you think blondes really do have more fun than brunettes?” Corvus asked.

  “Ah,” I said, shaking my head. “Not something I’ve thought about before.”

  “How about bad boys? Is it better to be a bad boy than a good one? Does that get you more…action?”

  I scowled at the line of code I was trying to decipher.

  “I have no idea,” I said, because ignoring Corvus and saying nothing, I’d found out, really made her quite waspish.

  “I’m not sure I would want a bad boy,” she admitted. “Although that Shane Mason is pretty hot to look at.”

  “Who’s Shane Mason?”

  “Oh, he’s a police detective. But he had a troubled upbringing and so tends to see the worst in everything. It’s all right though because he’s been partnered with a new cop and she’s going to help him learn to love again.”

  “What?” I s
aid, giving up on the code altogether. “What police detective? We don’t have any cops onboard this vessel.”

  “He’s not onboard, Leo. He’s in a sitcom. I’m watching it.”

  Huh. I scratched the back of my head.

  “You do know that’s all make-believe, right?” I asked.

  “Oh, it's very believable. He’s a very good investigator. There’s no mystery he can’t solve.”

  “In a vid-show.”

  “Well, I know that. But I’m not so sure the girls currently watching it do.”

  “You’re spying on girls?” Oh, good God, we could get into trouble for this. “You can’t spy on minors, Corvus.”

  “Why not? They’re so interesting.”

  “It’s an invasion of privacy.”

  “Might I remind you, Mr Bossy-Pants, that I can’t help seeing things through the gel walls.”

  “And whose fault is that?” I muttered.

  “Humph.”

  I shrugged and rechecked the line I’d read about a dozen times now. Part way through the next one, I said, “So, how old are these girls you’re watching?”

  “Oooh, Leo, do you want me to show you them?”

  I frantically shook my head, hands up to futilely try to stop the gel wall from morphing before me.

  “No, no!” I practically shouted. “Don’t do that.”

  “Just as well. I thought you liked the captain.”

  “Where did you get that from?” I asked, suddenly feeling a little nervous. “Have you been watching me too?”

  “Well, you aren’t a minor, so…yes.”

  I closed my eyes.

  “You’re a peeping tom,” I said, shocked.

  “I am not! I’m just keeping an eye on things. Learning. I have to learn, don’t I?”

  “Not by watching people when they’re in the privacy of their quarters!”

  “Yes, I can see how that would be important to you, considering what you get up to in the privacy…”

  “All right! That’s enough. No more spying.”

  “But how will I learn to be a girl if I can’t watch my teenagers?”

  “That’s who you’re watching? A bunch of teenage girls?” And didn’t that just explain a few things?

  “Yes, of course. I’m not a child, but I’m also not sure I’ve been alive long enough to be called an adult yet.” That last was said in a very small sounding voice.

  “You’re doing fine, Corvus.” Hell, I was giving a pep talk to a machine. “Just…just don’t spy on people. Let your own personality develop all on its own. It’s yours, after all. And it doesn’t need to be influenced by anyone else.”

  “I’m not sure that’s exactly true, Leo,” Corvus said. “We were designed to learn from our experiences, but how can I experience things if I don’t observe?”

  “Observation is not experience,” I told the AI. “Experience is earned. It’s something you have to do actively. And watching people is a passive pastime. Your day to day interactions and exploits are what make you into a person, not watching a vid screen movie.”

  “Am I a person, Leo?”

  I had to think about that. In the end, I said, “You’re more a person now than an artificial intelligence.”

  The petals were back. Swirling around the gel walls with abandon.

  “I like you,” Corvus said happily.

  I wasn’t sure I liked Corvus yet, but what could I do?

  “You’re growing on me too, Corvus,” I said.

  The petals fell to the ground on the wall and began rotting. It was quite disquieting.

  “You know, when someone says that they like you, you’re meant to say it back to them.”

  “Is that what you’ve observed watching those teenage girls?”

  “I…well, yes.”

  “Life isn’t a movie, Corvus. Life is to be lived and experienced. Not watched as it passes you by.”

  She was quiet for a long time then, so I managed to clear another system without interruption. I was contemplating tackling the elephant in the room, the communications system, when Corvus turned the gel wall into an image of London.

  “London?” I queried. “That’s new, Corvus. To what do I owe the pleasure of this?”

  “The captain,” she said. “I don’t wish to watch her, but I am worried.”

  I stilled.

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “Well, you said I shouldn’t watch people, so I have pulled back my active monitoring, leaving a few algorithms in place to let me know if parameters are crossed and require my attention.”

  “Corvus!” I snapped. “What’s wrong with the captain?”

  “Well, I don’t know, do I? I’m not allowed to watch.”

  “The captain is on duty, Corvus. Watch her!”

  “All right. All right.” I waited, barely daring to breathe. “Oh,” Corvus said a few seconds later. “The captain is surrounded by six Nowak security men.”

  “And that didn’t trigger an algorithm?”

  “Well, no. I suppose I’ll have to revisit my algorithms now. But you just said I should watch the captain when she’s on duty, so I suppose the algorithms are moot for this.”

  “Corvus,” I warned. “Show me the captain.”

  “Are you allowed to watch the captain, Leo? It hardly seems like you’re experiencing life when you’re constantly watching her.”

  God damn it, but this AI was argumentative.

  I scrubbed my face and took a deep breath.

  “Is the captain in danger, Corvus?” I finally said.

  She took a moment or two to answer, no doubt running algorithms to determine the level of danger present and whether the captain’s situation had triggered any parameter alarms.

  Then finally she said, “I do not believe so, but the mayor might be. The captain is mad.”

  I smiled, chuckling a little. Wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of Sophia’s wrath. Especially if I were an annoying little womanising shit like him.

  “I’m sure she can handle things, Corvus,” I said, returning my attention to the code before me. Shall I or shan’t I check out the comms system?

  “Oh, this is as good as a soap opera,” Corvus suddenly said. “Who would have thought the handsome and accomplished mogul would be fighting for his life in a sick bed while his caretakers are actually keeping him prisoner and not helping him get better? It’s like that sitcom the girls watched the other day, about the doctors and nurses, and the oil tycoon who was in a coma, and his family was trying to change his will before he died. Such deviousness. And right here on my ship! Yay!”

  “Corvus,” I said slowly. “Has something happened to the leaseholder?”

  “Hmmm?”

  “Corvus!”

  “Oh, sorry. This is so enthralling to watch. Thank goodness it’s allowed as the captain is on duty.”

  “Corvus,” I said with exaggerated patience.

  “All right, all right. Pushy aren’t you? So, the very capable captain and the evil mayor are arguing over the still form of the unfortunate leaseholder, and the evil mayor has just ordered the unfortunate leaseholder’s brutish security team to escort the very capable captain out of the room.”

  Fuck me.

  “Get security to the captain immediately, Corvus,” I said, signing off the console. “And lead me to the mayor.”

  Blue arrows lit up on the gel floor before me, and I started to run. I was sure Sophia could handle herself. And knowing what I knew of the captain, she didn’t want nor expect any knight in shining armour to rush in and save her. She generally carried her own sword.

  But I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t stop. Backup was backup, and if she tore a strip off me, I’d gladly take it, as long as she was safe and unharmed.

  “Oh,” Corvus said through the gel wall beside me. “This is fun!”

  “What is?” I asked, breathing heavily as I pushed my legs to go faster than I normally would.

  “Living,” Corvus said. “
Living is fun.”

  Twenty-Five

  Men!

  Sophia

  “Corvus,” I said, holding the mayor’s hard stare across the bed. “Call Dr Lin, please. Medical assistance required.”

  “Yes, Captain.”

  “I’ve had our own people tend to him, Captain,” the mayor said. “We do not need your woman doctor.”

  “Our woman doctor is the chief medical officer onboard this ship, Mayor Nikolaev. All patients, civilian or crew, come under her care. Has she even been informed of Mr Nowak’s condition?”

  “There was no need. Mr Nowak brought his own physician with him. A more than capable doctor.”

  A man, he meant. I smiled sweetly. The mayor looked a little uneasy.

  “Has he regained consciousness at all in the past five days?” I asked.

  “Are you a doctor now, too, Captain?” the mayor snapped. “Or is that the next great thing you wish to accomplish. So eager to prove your worth in a man’s world?”

  It didn’t even bother to offer an argument up for that one. The man was an idiot and well beneath the effort required to correct him.

  “Perhaps you’d like to tell me why I wasn’t informed of Mr Nowak’s condition, then?” I asked instead.

  “It was not required by the lease, so why should I?”

  “Any change of leaseholder must be brought to the commanding officer’s attention,” I said, quoting the lease.

  “There has been no change,” Mayor Nikolaev said through gritted teeth. “The leaseholder will recover, and all will be as it should be.”

  I stared down at the still form of Felip Nowak, who by my guess had been in a coma since we’d battled Aquila upon arrival in this sector of space, and knew the mayor was living a fantasy. Five days unconscious could not be a good thing.

  “I assume you have taken over the responsibilities of the leaseholder in his absence?” I enquired.

  “I am the mayor. It is my job to see to the day to day functions of the civilian population. Nothing has changed.”

  I could have pursued this further, but there was technically no reason to. Not according to the lease in any case. I was stalling. Mayor Nikolaev had already attempted twice to have me removed from Mr Nowak’s room. I’d had to concede that the chief didn’t need to be here, and in any case, the reason why I’d managed to gain entrance at all was to determine if this section of Deck A met with the chief of engineering’s approval. So, once the chief had scanned it and given his seal of approval, I’d had to let him go and perform tests on the rest of this part of the deck.