Star Lawyers Omnibus : Main Series - Books 1-3, page 38
“Thank them on behalf of the Family and the Terran Commonwealth,” J.B. said. “Please tell them their work will open a new era in space exploration.”
“I will. May you fly safely.”
After the Sioux City entered the Cumberland Tunnel bound for the Beta Site, Tyler suddenly laughed aloud. It was an explosive convulsion, like he had been holding it inside. Lulu, in snake form, woke from a deep sleep and jerked upright like an exclamation mark, dropped to the deck, transformed to Lucy the cat, and zoomed out of the flight deck.
“What’s so funny?” J.B. said.
“Did you believe that bullshit you were spooning out to Captain Liu?”
The older Matthews brother frowned. “Why must everything be so shallow to you, Ty?”
“Oh, come on. ‘Their work will open a new era….blah-blah-blah.’ You sounded like a recruiting blurb for deep space asteroid mining.”
“Liu is a hero.” J.B. crossed arms and rubbed his elbows.
“Gatekeeper with guns,” Tyler said. “Big fucking guns.”
“You are such a cynic! How can you call yourself a Catholic?”
“I’m a cynical Catholic. It’s an ethnic identity.”
“Is that your excuse for pissing on everything noble and self-sacrificial?”
“I don’t believe in noble self-sacrifice. People aren’t motivated by altruism. They’re motivated by finding something they give a shit about and working their asses off to make it happen.”
“And that’s not noble and self-sacrificial?” J.B. insisted.
“You want to talk value in life? How about doing something you love and getting paid for it? If you make the universe a better place in the process, that ain’t altruism, it’s gravy for the meatloaf.”
“The Greek sages in Hades tremble at your logic,” J.B. said.
“They’re safe in heaven, arguing with the apostles.” Tyler grinned. “Didn’t the Vatican appoint Plato, Aristotle and the pagan philosophers honorary Catholics a couple hundred years ago?”
“Yes, yes. Pope Theresa VII in 2731. But not all of them. Her encyclical Sanctorum de religionibus paganus declared service to humanity as the cornerstone of Catholic virtue.”
“So, we cloned the Mormon doctrine of postmortem, involuntary baptism to induct good, dead thinkers into the Catholic pantheon.”
J.B. started to push back on Tyler’s argument, but Rosalie and Julieta came to the flight deck to check their message traffic. Tyler alerted them to the possibility of interception, but Julieta said they’d uploaded encryption algorithms created by their Order to protect communications.
About two hours into their galaxy-wide soirée, Rosalie alerted her brothers to incoming voice traffic. “Ty, I’m getting a priority message from Chief León,” she said from the comm station. “Verified secure channel.”
“Let’s hear it,” Tyler said. “Chief, you’re on speaker.”
“Boss, we got trouble,” Paco said.
“Are you under attack?” Tyler said.
“Not physically, sir. But during the night somebody hacked the Patrick Henry MLC and wiped its memory clean.”
A cold jolt shot through him. O, God—Suzie! He forced himself to ask the question. “Did the backup come online?”
He heard Paco take a breath. “Sir, this is hard to report...”
“Just tell me.”
“The whole system—all operating programs, holographic library, Main Library Computer data base—everything is gone. Had to download compatible software packages from the Trade Embassy files just to recover basic functions, like communications and life support. Don’t know where to find the original drive system programs for this oddball ship.”
“Why would somebody erase our data?” Rosalie said. “Was it a malware hit?”
“No, ma’am. They was looking for something.”
“Chief, you recovered Arabella and others when the previous owner deleted them,” Tyler said. “Please tell me there is some way to recover Suzie, too.”
“Not from this end,” Paco said. “They scrambled data and shattered replication paths before erasure. Whoever did it wasn’t an amateur, like the pimp who owned this ship before I accidentally murdered him.”
“And that’s it?” Tyler said. “They scanned our system, found what they wanted, and deleted everything else? It’s all gone?”
“Well…” Paco said hesitantly. “Don’t get your hopes up, Boss, but the new diagnostic package found residual, micro-traces of data. Not enough to recover any programs, but enough to detect replication fingerprints embedded in the micro-slices of remaining code. I’m pretty certain the thieving pricks copied and uploaded all our files before scrubbing the primary sources.”
J.B. put a hand on his brother’s arm. “Suzie’s trapped inside whatever hardware siphoned the data. She’s probably still functioning.”
“Unless they jettisoned all cyber-control and recreational components,” Tyler said. “She’ll register as either command level AI or holographic subroutine.”
“Your girlfriend is resourceful,” J.B. said. “Suzie will hide somewhere they never thought to look.”
“What is Demarcus saying about this?” Tyler said.
“A whole lot of profanity,” Paco said. “He’s got his spy network turning this city inside out, looking for clues. I told him you wouldn’t mind if he promised a big reward for evidence.”
“We don’t,” J.B. said.
“Find Suzie,” Tyler said. “Find everything. Tell Dorla to pay all the bills. Don’t stop looking until I tell you.”
“Good. I’m gonna consult with Embassy techies to get a better—”
“Belay that, Chief,” J.B. said. “You can no longer trust our Trade Embassy. In fact, you’d better scan the operational programs they sent.”
“I don’t understand, sir.”
“We’ll explain when we’re face to face,” J.B. said.”
Tyler overruled his brother. “We need action now.”
J.B. took a deep breath. “You’re right.”
“Give the word,” Paco said. “I’ll make it happen.”
“Tell Demarcus to take command of the Trade Embassy under our authority,” Tyler said. “Arrest Ambassador LeBlanc for treason and murder. Keep her in solitary confinement.”
“Are you serious, sir?”
Tyler said, “She’s probably a spy for the pirate syndicates. Tell the Inspector to round up every employee who protests and lock their asses in separate cells.”
“But—”
“Do it, Paco,” Tyler said.
“No problemo, Boss. Demarcus is already in attack-dog mode.”
“Keep us posted,” J.B. said.
“Dr. LeBlanc a spy—what’s this Universe coming to?” Paco added a postscript. “Dorla is saying a novena for your Suzie, also Lieutenant Arabella and the holographic crew—Ensigns Myong-Li, Parvati, all of them. I think the wife misses her ladies.”
“Thank her for the prayers, Chief.” Tyler closed the link.
“You don’t believe prayers help,” Julieta said.
“Probably not.” Tyler pushed the command seat back and hunched forward. “But who knows what deity is on duty tonight? Maybe Thor will hammer our enemies.”
“I doubt the Blessed Virgin would approve,” Julieta said.
Tyler frowned. “Says the Catholic dispatcher.”
Rosalie left the comm station and hugged Tyler. “I like Suzie. We’ll get her back.”
“Have faith, Primo,” Julieta said.
Tyler wanted more words of encouragement about Suzie, but Julieta and Rosalie kissed him and went back to their messages, so he closed his eyes and kept silent. For the first time since he was an altar boy, he thought about praying a novena and adding Aunt Camilla to the prayer list.
“Well, at least we don’t have to win the court fight,” J.B. said.
“Why do you say that?” Tyler said.
“Father has another access point to Jump Gate Omega.”
“Esteban is still facing capital charges,” Tyler said.
“So, do you want to skip the Beta Site?” J.B. said.
“No.” Suzie is gone. Why would I hurry back to an empty bed?
“If we return to Suryadivan Prime,” J.B. tapped the nav controls, “it’s less than two hours. We could finish prepping for the criminal trial. And I have some personal questions for our Trade Ambassador.”
“No.”
J.B. sat back. “There’s no reason to waste a two-day trip when we have work to do at home base.”
“No! We promised Dad we’d check his silent Gate,” Tyler said. “We’re keeping that promise.”
“Just touch-and-go, then straight home?”
“Fine.”
J.B. checked the course setting. “Okay. Seventeen hours, eight minutes to Beta coordinates.”
“God, this has been a long day,” Tyler said. “I’m bone tired.”
“Go below, get some rest. Spell me in a few hours.”
“I’ll nap in the seat,” Tyler said. “Got used to that on my weekend planet-hunting excursions.”
Rosalie offered to bring coffee to the bridge. J.B. accepted but Tyler didn’t want any more caffeine.
“Maybe Paco and Demarcus will have answers when we get back,” she said.
Tyler nodded, but that cold feeling in his stomach would not go away. Even without caffeine, sleep did not come easily.
Nine
When the Sioux City dropped from hyperspace, Tyler expected a repeat of their encounter at the Alpha Site—construction ships and EVA crews completing final tasks to bring the galaxy-hopping donut online, protected by a small but powerful force of Matthews battle craft. Instead, they roared into a massive cloud of space debris, forcing Tyler to raise shields, seize manual control, and veer sharply to avoid a spectacular collision.
Drifting wreckage.
Broken bits of starships.
Hunks of metal from a shattered Jump Gate.
Here and there, husks of a dead spacecraft—some shredded, some broken in half.
All floating within the debris cloud which spread haphazardly in a field of destruction stretching hundreds of kilometers.
Mysteriously, the open space around butchered ships and smashed Gate fragments appeared dusty against the Type-B, blue giant star, which had anchored the Beta Gate in its gravity well.
“What happened here?” Tyler said. “The Gate is gone. Thousands of crew, gone. Look at the volume of wreckage. This was a huge battle.”
“Scan for life signs in the rubble,” J.B. ordered the MLC.
“Nothing lives within a range of my scanners,” the new MLC reported.
“How’s that possible?” J.B. said. “All our ships carry escape pods or lifeboats.”
“Negative contact with functioning organics.”
“They are not functioning organics—they’re human beings!” J.B. shot back.
“This unit regrets—”
“Shut up,” J.B. said.
“Bear, are you okay?” Tyler couldn’t remember the last time J.B. had gone from zero to orbital velocity so quickly.
“No, I’m not okay! We should have multiple life readings from escape pods. Jesus Christ—why didn’t they eject?”
“They were responding to a surprise attack, fighting for their lives,” Tyler said. “The thick of combat must have looked like the damnation scene from Faust. You don’t eject into the arms of Méphistophélès.”
“We have to tell Father.”
“Closer look first,” Tyler said.
J.B. nodded. “Carefully.”
“Approaching debris cloud at one-tenth maneuvering thrusters.” Tyler’s fingers danced over the double-hands-wide rectangle of lighted squares which allowed him to pilot the ship manually. If Suzie were aboard instead of an unproven MLC, he’d just tell her what to do and sit back while she executed it flawlessly. Tyler didn’t trust the backup system.
J.B. slipped into his mother’s native tongue. “Madre de Dios. The wreckage looks like an asteroid belt.”
Near the sea of litter, clouds of dust optically resolved into countless bits of flotsam from gutted vessels.
Pieces of sliced hull enmeshed in a Sargasso of metallic fibers.
Corridor segments, some bizarrely attached to whole cabins, fragmented engine parts and smashed weapons platforms.
Chunks of starship superstructure drifted like high-tech phantoms, randomly spewing electrical sparks into the silent graveyard. Here and there, a humanoid body floated by aimlessly, always without EVA suit.
“Raise forward shields to emergency power, 120 percent,” Tyler ordered. “We’re going closer.”
When the MLC failed to respond, Tyler repeated the command. The new MLC was still in shut up mode. Literalistic thinking. Suzie would have bitched them out and continued chattering.
“Talk to me, new guy.”
“Forward shields at one-twenty. Collapse of protective umbrella in thirty-five minutes, eleven seconds.”
Mingled with the recognizable remnants of Matthews starships, Tyler picked out large fragments of Suryadivan and pirate vessels. J.B. collected optical images and correlated them with sensor readings to send home. They moved so close Tyler felt the deck below his feet vibrate from the energy feedback as Sioux City’s shield umbrella buffered the little ship against high-velocity rain from clouds of wildly gyrating metallic shards.
Rosalie and Julieta bounced up the steps from the galley, followed by Jazmir and Yumiko. They crowded around the portals.
“By the Forty-Six!” Jazmir cried. “Who did this?”
“Our ships fire high-impact laser cannons, or explosive missiles,” Tyler said. “Look at the damage on the larger hull pieces of Suryadivan attack craft.”
“Kinetic weapons,” J.B. said. “The signature armament of most pirate leagues.”
“See the heat scoring on the pirate vessels?” Rosalie said. “Aren’t thermal lasers the weaponry of choice for the Suryadivan Navy?”
“Yes,” Jazmir said.
J.B. sat back and breathed deeply. “They destroyed each other in close fighting.”
“Somebody wanted to protect the Beta Gate,” Tyler said. “And I’m betting it wasn’t the pirates.”
Rosalie nodded. “No signs of salvage operations, no attempt to capture slaves. This was pure murder and terrorism.”
“Why did the Suryadivans engage our enemies?” J.B. said. “If the Sacred Protectorate is so hostile to our Andromeda Gate, why didn’t they join the attack?”
“My leaders oppose your Jump Gate Omega,” Jazmir said, “but our religion utterly forbids aggressive war. If we attacked you unprovoked, the citizenry would riot. Our Supreme Council of Pontiffs fears the people more than they fear the gods.”
“I have a different take on what happened,” Tyler said. “If the Beta Gate opens for business, our claim of irreparable harm to the project due to shutting down the Alpha Site becomes moot.”
“You think they tried to save our Beta Gate to leverage Matthews Corp into evacuating the Adaon area?” J.B. said, “To protect their trade in torture-enzymes?
“I can’t imagine what prices they’re demanding for virtual immortality on the Dark Market,” Tyler said.
“If you’re right,” Rosalie said, “a lot of good Suryadivan sailors died here for the greed of the Pontiffs.”
Jazmir looked out the viewport at the debris field. “They sacrificed everyone aboard those ships to preserve their torture temples.”
“It is a great dishonor,” Yumiko said.
Tyler knew just enough about Bushido to understand how deeply offensive this act of betrayal was to Yumi-san. Even if none of the purveyors were human, much less Japanese, the Pontiffs had upset the balance of the Cosmos by treachery of this magnitude.
“With the backup Gate gone, we gotta win that unwinnable court battle,” Tyler said. “Not just to save the Family fortune, but to honor the Terrans and Suryadivans who died here.”
J.B. said, with no trace of cynicism, “It’s good to hear you embrace self-sacrifice.”
“I reserve the right to be inconsistent.”
The MLC interrupted them. “Incoming spacecraft. Single vessel.”
Tyler opened the scanning module. “Type and configuration?”
“Cruiser. Pirate rigging. Her profile is recorded in my data base: Segerian Privateer, Henrique.”
“Flávio!” Rosalie squealed.
“The Henrique has suffered battle damage.”
Before Tyler had time to process the situation, the fast-approaching privateer dropped to station-keeping a thousand meters off the Sioux City’s portside. The body of the sleek vessel bore burn marks in its white hull from hundreds of hits by thermal rounds at close range and one large, spark-sizzling gash near the stern thrusters, the signature of a missile hit.
Capitão Flávio Tavares, furry coat slung about his shoulders, pushed so close to the transmission unit that Tyler could have counted each black stubble on the Segerian’s bristle face in the viewscreen.
“What do you know about this attack, Tavares?” Tyler demanded.
“Matthews youth again,” the Capitão said. “Why does the fool always speak first? Where is Jota Bê?”
“Who?”
“J.B.,” Rosalie said. “He wants J.B.”
She rattled a few sentences in Portuguese. From Tyler’s fluency in Español Nuevo, he picked out greetings and a little friendly palaver in the Lisbon-Madrid exchange. The newcomer flipped a hand at J.B. to take over.
“Good to see you are alive, Capitão Tavares,” J.B. said in Terran. “Did you witness the battle?”
Tavares grunted like a wild boar. “Witness it? I nearly died in the crossfire. I fought to defend the Gate, but took hits from friendlies who confused my Henrique with the pirate vessels.”
“Can’t imagine why,” Tyler said under his breath. I don’t like this asshole. No idea why Dad trusts a rogue like Flávio Tavares.
“When I saw your Gate had only three medium cruisers and a destroyer for protection,” Tavares said, “I assumed they wanted to avoid detection with a smaller energy signature. It should have worked in such a remote location.”
“But it didn’t,” J.B. said.
