Federation Reborn 2: Pirate Rage (32 page)

But his presentation on the subject had led them to a few new avenues to explore. It had allowed them to engineer better simulation models and program security antibody modules in the hopes of better defending against the virus … or at least in slowing it down while alerting others of the danger.

“Anything new?” Sprite asked, popping into the A.I. holo emitter Fletcher had recently vacated.

“Do you A.I. have a schedule or something? I swear, Fletcher was just here,” the bird man said, shaking his head.

Yao Li Wong was a Chimerian. He'd converted himself into a raven-like birdman prior to the Xeno War. He'd been on board the super-secret Lemnos facility when she'd lost contact with the Federation, and her skeleton crew had been forced to go into stasis to survive.

Yao had been something of an off-again, on-again understudy of Admiral Irons, which explained the mutual friendship the two men shared. He was adjusting to the destruction of the old Federation and the time jump better than most too.

He also had several other duties like Sprite and some of the other officers assigned to their little think tank. He divided his time between the yard, the research board trying to fit all the puzzles and new concepts from Lemnos into working systems, and the team trying to make sure those same new concepts and systems weren't tainted by the virus.

Unfortunately, many had been. It was taking months to run down some of the simplest problems the A.I. had thrown into each concept.

“Fletcher kept it warm? Good for him. I've only got a moment. SITREP? Trust me, you'd much prefer me over a face-to-face from his high and mighty,” she said dryly.

Yao snorted. “How is he settling in?”

“Small talk? I guess I can do a bit,” Sprite quipped. “He's the admiral. He's doing his best, the same he asks of all of us. It's not easy. I know the moment we get a proper Federation government together he'll jump ship. Probably a bit too hastily, but we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. And it's a bridge a
long
way off,” she drawled.

“Right. Well, we’re still processing what we've learned from the Protodon files. Bast's attack and her defense had given us a clue on some of the virus's tricks and how the old Federation had found ways to identify the infection, quarantine it, and kill it.” He grimaced. “Unfortunately, that's all we know since she's not very forthcoming in her report.”

“Not necessarily a bad thing considering this thing tends to move through the ansible network with impunity,” Veber said from nearby.

“True,” Yao clucked.

“We'll have to wait on a face-to-face debrief. A thorough one. She won't like losing her best defense against them, but we need to find a way to run this thing down once and for all. It is a snake in our bosom we can't afford to have.”

“Definitely.”

“ETA?”

“The Sergeant and A.I. are en route to us. Unfortunately, they are taking the long route through Agnosta. Once they get here, I know the admiral will have plans for them as well, so we'll have to make our own debrief a quick and painless download,” Sprite mused. “More progress on the list of infected files?”

They had found that the Wraith had taken a page from the Skynet virus by embedding pieces of itself in many different files. There were many different copies of the virus components, all different sizes to throw off security scans. They were also able to self-assemble after a trigger. Learning that much had cost them a couple of mainframes and some scares, but they'd learned a bit.

“Two more. Using the file copies from Admiral Irons was a brilliant stroke. We can use them as a base comparison of some of the files. It's not perfect, but it's allowed us to run down a more couple operating files. Once we have a packet, we'll let the A.I. know.”

Sprite nodded. “As long as none of the A.I. are compromised, we'll be safe. They can clean their Area of Operations and see to it that the same is done in the civilian networks.”

“Yes, but every hub we add, the more the network expands, the more places there are to hide,” Yao warned.

“I know, which is why Fletcher is on this too. We'll probably need hunter A.I. to run this thing to ground. Are we being careful with the list?”

“Of course.”

“Good. As long as the Wraith doesn't get its hands on it, we're good. If it does we'll be back to square one,” Sprite said. “Anything else?”

“Nothing on this front. We're still running compiles for the latest security vaccines. Veber here insisted on trying some of the methods Athena used to fend off Skynet.”

“Air gapping won't work in all instances,” Sprite said. “I'm curious though, since we don't have a copy of her files, how do you?”

“I did my best to consider the situation from the files and reconstruct her thought process along with what we knew about the viral A.I. Obviously her defenses worked. I'm big on concepts I suppose, small on the actual details however.”

“Pass what you've got to me. I don't have a lot of her files, none at all that I know of, but maybe it will spark something. Have you sent this to the college?”

“The college?”

“Task them with a research project. We can contract them if they won't bite out of curiosity. Professor Wilks might have a couple grad students interested in extra credit. Who knows, it might get them interested in computer security or in the navy. Stranger situations have been known to spark interest,” Sprite said. “Come to think of it, Lieutenant Raynor might have something in her files as well.”

“Since she's a historian, ma’am? I asked her if she had anything on Xeno viruses, but she had little other than general files and what happened when they got loose.”

“No, I'm referring to Athena and the A.I. War. I'm sending her an email,” Sprite said, creating the electronic letter and then shooting it off. “Done. Anything else?”

“Not here. I'm scheduled …,” Yao looked at the clock on his HUD and sighed. “Well, I was
supposed
to be on a shuttle to one of my other jobs. Oops?”

“Time flies when you're having fun and it sucks to be a meat bag, You can't be bouncing around as fast as us A.I.,” Sprite teased with a smile. “I'll let Sindri know you are running late again.”

“Thank you, ma'am.”

“Just make sure it's for a good reason. Results are one,” she said.

“We're trying, ma’am.”

“I know. Keep at it when you can. Get going though. Other things are as important now. Possibly more so I suppose.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Yao said, rising from his chair. He picked up his jacket off the back but tucked it under his arm instead of putting it on. “Later Veber. Don't work too late.”

“I'll try not to, sir,” the Centaurian said as the A.I. and chimeran departed.

Chapter
20

Admiral Irons watched in approval as a giant
Beluga
class shuttle transport made its way along the traffic lanes to line up with an open bay. Space buoys blinked as the shuttle passed between them neatly. With light puffs the delta shaped craft turned its mammoth body around to back into the bay. The fuselage was enlarged above to allow its hollow void to contain massive cargoes. It's lifting body shape and powerful engines allowed it to lift said mass in and out of a gravity well with, well, not ease, but it seemed that way, the admiral mused.

The
Beluga
was a
Skywhale
, the largest of the ascraft family. Ascraft or Aerospace Craft were the oldest branch of shuttles. There were few
Skywhale
designs that were bigger but none in use currently with the reborn Federation. This one was white like most shuttles, with a black scorched underside and black markings around her windows and entry points.

Clamshell doors opened in the rear of the craft between the massive engines; if the doors had been in front they would have ripped the ascraft in half during reentry. The rear opened up, workers swarmed inward and then in moments had unlatched and kicked out the massive cargo pallets, then drifted clear. The ascraft's doors closed once more and then the vehicle moved away as work crews, tugs, and robots drew the pallets in for processing.

His eyes narrowed slightly as he focused on the cargo out of idle curiosity. His vision zoomed in to see them. The pallets looked like subassembly components for parasite craft. Wings in this case he thought when one turned slightly on profile. He recognized the basic shape, if not the design.

He nodded in approval as he checked the manifest remotely. They were indeed wings, a dozen pair, all from the industrial plants in Eternia City. That explained it. The city was more advanced than any of the other factory sites on Antigua. They had the spaceport right next door, one of only six on the planet still. Despite the ongoing security situation, they had a massive influx of people flocking to the city to help restore it while also getting a job and modern education.

His staff had worked with Governor Randall to diversify some of the military manufacturing in order to help the star system's economy. He hadn't been sticky about letting them manufacture MILSPEC components as long as they were basics, not weapons or anything from the proscribed list. Some of the best manufactured subassemblies still came from Antigua Prime of course, but some outfits had started up their own satellite factories and others had gone groundside. It had taken a bit of investing to get them up and running, and their quality control still had issues, but it was now paying off.

The small factories had started small with bolts and other fasteners. They had fed him those for a time before other factories came online that made other components. Then subassembly factories started up. They had moved up the assembly ladder from there over the past year. They weren't as efficient or as good as components made in a replicator, but they were churning out parts nearly as quickly in parallel to the replicators they had that were already going with a max load.

Some of the delegates had requested similar contracts on their worlds. The admiral had green lit the same process, and a shipment of startup equipment had gone out to Triang to begin the same exponential growth process. The parts would be shipped in by the regular run, and they would pay off the initial investment within a year. They could also use the same process to manufacture goods and equipment for civilian grade shuttles and other craft as a side business. Growing the economy was a benefit. Getting them interested in the infrastructure, health, education and welfare of their workers, it was all there.

Just integrating the various star system stock markets with an overall Federation one was something he wasn't prepared to take on. He didn't have the background to do so, nor did he know the players involved, nor the subject matter.

Then there was the replicator key market. Selling civilian keys of limited or unrestricted use was something he was holding off until he had a proper trade ministry in place to handle the headaches involved. Jeff's attempt earlier in the year had turned into a bit of a fiasco—though it had been gratifying to see the prices. Alarming, since the speculators had gotten involved to buy them up then sell them at exorbitantly high prices, but gratifying to see the credits flowing into the government coffers, even if it had been brief.

Senka was the biggest investment proposal outside Antigua so he was still considering it carefully. The security issue wasn't the only problem; manpower was as well. The people in Senka wanted a full-on yard—if not a military one, then a civilian yard. With all the asteroid material in the star system, they certainly had a good point. Bu the star system was a crossroad for traffic through the upper part of the sector and a potential route for the pirates to invade in. That bothered him greatly.

Then there was their other demand. Like Pyrax they wanted a planet of some sort. A habitat at least, which meant a massive industrial presence and a diversion of that magnitude didn't come cheap. Since there were still only a few thousand people in the star system, he could politely ignore the request, at least for a while.

He frowned as his thoughts turned to his cabinet. Politics as usual tended to get his blood pressure up. Getting that sorted out was becoming a headache and a half all by itself. He thought having a military staff was bad! He shook his head. Fat chance. Commander Nora Thornby might be the senior most doctor in the military, but when he'd tried to appoint her as his chief of medicine he'd run into all sorts of complaints with the medical establishment first in Antigua, and then abroad when other star systems heard the news through the ansible network.

Nora's appointment had been a slam dunk or so he'd thought. She'd worked tirelessly to get Pyrax up-to-date while also helping star systems nearby do the same, all the while managing the training and administration duties of the navy as G-9 BUMED! But apparently that hadn't been enough to sooth ruffled feathers. Politics, the bane of his existence, had reared its ugly head early.

It had done so often afterward when some in the various political establishments had realized what sort of weapon they had in their hands. A brief whisper of discontent got the media to pile on, tearing apart anyone or anything he ordered. He'd learned to ignore some of it while trying to keep an open mind. Each of the protests had a small, terribly small grain of truth to it.

He'd also learned to vet candidates thoroughly before nominating them. And to do so without others realizing what he was doing or who he was looking at.

He still didn't have a vice president. Governor Randall had politely declined the role. His stated reason was that he was too busy as governor to fill it. He also had a family, which the admiral could understand. It was still frustrating, however, but at least Jeff didn't balk at assuming some of the duties despite not holding the title.

He needed a civilian head of Industry, Treasury, State, Agriculture, Interior and Exploration, Medicine, Labor, Energy, Justice, Commerce, Transportation, Science, Education … the list went on and on. And not one filled yet either, he reminded himself sourly.

Matilda had flat out declined the education slot. She'd instead taken over G-3 Schools on his staff … not without a bit of elbowing of others to get out of her way. Not only was she currently G-3 Schools for Antigua, but also for the entire Federation at the moment, such as it was.

As admiral he could and would act as his own chief of naval operations as well as the military defense secretary. The chiefs of the army and marines could remain empty for the moment since they didn't have anyone, or at least no one they could spare.

Security and intelligence were iffy positions to fill. So were the spec ops and intelligence chairs in the military department. Again, all vacant. He knew he could tap experts in the fields if necessary to fill in any holes in his own knowledge base or look up a question he had in mind.

Justice was a thorny issue; one they would need to resolve soon. He also needed a formal justice system with a supreme court on down. He'd called for a conference in Antigua of jurists to discuss the matter. Delegates were going to arrive within a month or so to begin wrangling it out. He'd been warned judges were as much politicians as political animals were. They just did a better job of hiding behind a facade of jurisprudence and neutrality.

Matilda had also told him the same problem existed in education, which was why she hadn't agreed to be nominated as education secretary. She had a few skeletons in her closet before she'd signed on with the college and eventually the navy apparently, stuff she was too embarrassed to bring up. But, she'd hastily informed him, not enough to keep her from doing her current job. Just wounds she didn't want reopened.

Commander Sprite was acting as his chief of staff; he'd flat out ordered her to hold the post as well as her normal one in the military. She had been wise enough not to argue.

He pinched the bridge of his nose as he closed his eyes. He wasn't going to get anywhere, not anytime soon. Not unless he put his foot down or he made the jobs temporary or perhaps had them elective? He opened his eyes and frowned at the reflection in the window. That last idea bothered him the most. Not only would it make him hostage to the public and the movers and shakers, but it would also cater to them. Cater to the obstructionist bastards who just wanted to throw a monkey wrench into things out of a misguided idea of spite or their idea of
helping
and
contributing
to the
debate
. Growing pains my ass he thought with a pang.

Some things really sucked. He understood he had to act, he couldn't be frozen with indecision. He also knew he had to choose the least likely damaging choice in a menu of bad choices. But he had to get it right or at least as close as he could get. His own image was riding on such decisions, and therefore his ability to make decisions down the road.

He had so many factors to juggle. The ugly hint of racism was creeping into some of the discussions by various species since two of his candidates had been human like himself. Something else to keep in the back of his mind. He had to balance someone who had the right to the job with someone who could
do
the job, who would do it without abusing the power, steer clear of corruption, and who was the right pick politically—and now that crap.

There was a reason he
hated
politics he thought bleakly. More than one really. Diogenes had had it easy in his time. Politics was more about individual ambition than a desire to get something done. It was enough to make a guy want to quit.

A housing secretary … he shook his head at the idea. Apparently it had been added during the early stages of the war to deal with the refugee crisis. Okay, he could probably leave that safely vacant or put it up for election if necessary.

Agriculture, labor, and interior and exploration he could also leave vacant for a while. He wondered briefly if the first two were really necessary since both were local issues not galactic ones. Or at least
he
thought so.

Industry, state, treasury, medicine, education, commerce, justice, and defense were the critical departments in his book. He frowned thoughtfully. So far a half a dozen or more people from every star system that had formally or even informally joined the reborn Federation had stepped up for each position. Narrowing them down wasn't going to be fun … and again, politics would come into play. Insult one star system over another? What sort of political horse trading was he going to have to do to get what needed to be done? Didn't these people understand it was all temporary anyway?

And what about when more star systems, hell, entire galactic sectors joined? What then? What was he to do if someone pitched a snit and demanded their seat at the table? It was enough to make him want to throw his hands up and quit. But for whatever reason the last president had chosen him for the job. He was a fighter; he was now done with running. Now he had a place and damn it, he planned to stand and fight.

Even if some people were doing their level best to tie his hands in the process.

“Admiral, you've got another conference scheduled in twenty,” Protector reminded him.

He inhaled and then exhaled slowly. Break over apparently, he thought. He settled himself, tugging on the hem of his jacket. “Who with?” he asked, gathering his thoughts.

“Governor Randall and his industrial board. I believe he wants to go over the numbers of industrial applications for his planet while subtly introducing his cabinet to you.”

“As possible candidates for the secretary of industry?” the admiral asked. One man's bias was another man's opportunity apparently. Even Jeff wasn't above such things from time to time.

“Possibly. He of course doesn't know any of the other candidates.”

“And he thinks that since his candidate is here and I can meet face-to-face, or at least talk over a vid link, I'll lean his way,” the admiral said.

“It is a distinct possibility, sir,” the A.I. responded.

“I'm going to try to keep an open mind, but I want the occasional poke internally if I get cold. I know I'm prejudicing myself against the candidate ahead of time.”

“You are human, sir. It is part of the human condition,” the A.I. replied.