Omega Rising (5 page)

              "Are you ok, Jason?" This was the first time the artificial being had used his name, another red flag in Jason's naturally suspicious mind.

              "Nothing hurt but my pride," he replied glibly as he bounced back up with move that only light gravity would allow. "Now. About that food..."

              "Of course. This way," the synth now assumed the mannerisms of a maitre'd as it gestured towards the galley with a subdued, but still present flourish. Jason gave it an odd look as he walked by and realized that despite the very human mannerisms the machine exhibited, it was still an alien. It had accessed and compiled Earth's media into a completely disjointed set of responses to Jason's actions. There was no doubt about its intelligence, but its motives were both a mystery and a concern. He walked across the common area and made his way to the galley. At Deetz's gesture he sat at the long high-top style table that looked like it could seat at least ten people, there was another identical table across from him that led him to believe that the ship's intended compliment must be between fifteen to twenty-five people... er, beings.

"The ship's computer was able to devise a safe menu for you from the initial bio scans that were taken when you were injured. While it certainly won't be an Earth meal, it won't make you sick either." Deetz had walked back behind a counter into the food prep area and began stabbing at another of the ship's touchscreen displays that was mounted in the wall. After a few moments he walked back around with a tray that held a steaming plate and a tall glass of water. Jason had been too distracted to see where the food had come from so quickly. "Here we are," Deetz said cheerfully as he set the tray in front of Jason. While it looked odd, it did smell good. Some sort of white meat/protein and a green vegetable that he couldn't identify. At least the water was still water. He dug in with gusto and was relieved to find that, big surprise, it tasted similar to chicken. While he ate Deetz sat across from him, propped his elbows on the table and steepled his fingers, fixing him with a steady stare. It was a tad unnerving while he was trying to eat, but he was too hungry to care or pause long enough to tell the synth to stop staring.

"So. You were a soldier on Earth?" The question caught Jason off guard.

              "Technically I was an airman. But yes, I did serve in the military." Jason didn't volunteer any further information. He sensed he was treading on delicate ground right now.

              "I suppose there's a distinction there I'm missing, but you were a warrior among your people?"

              "Yes."

              "There's no need for such discomfort, Jason Burke," Deetz said with that alarming mechanical laugh. "This is not an interrogation. I'm just curious about what type of human you are. Would anyone of your species have boarded a strange ship brandishing a weapon?"

              "No. I suppose I'm a special case, even among the warriors on Earth." Jason relaxed a bit, but not much. "To be honest I didn't realize just
how
strange this ship was when I first saw it. It looked like it could have possibly been something conceived and built on Earth, at least from the outside. It wasn't until I saw the language on the bulkheads, and saw you on the bridge, that I realized what I was actually on. My original intent had been to render aid."

              "Render aid?" Deetz repeated with a frown. "But you brought no medical supplies, only a fairly powerful weapon." This caused Jason to pause in his eating a shift uncomfortably.

              "There's a reason I live a remote, solitary life right now. I fought extensively in a few of our wars, and I feel better being well armed when approaching the unknown. It may be paranoia, but then again, maybe not." He looked pointedly at the synth as he said the last sentence. Deetz chose to ignore the challenge.

              "What some would deem as paranoia others would see as prudence. So your planet is currently under invasion? I didn't detect any traces of other ships on my approach, but with the system damage that isn't saying that they weren't there."

              "No, no. Nothing like that. We fight amongst ourselves over political and theological differences." As Jason said these words to an alien being he realized how truly foolish humanity must seem to an outsider. Not that he saw his world in such overly simplistic strokes, but when distilled down to its base components it did seem that there had to be a better way than slaughtering each other.

              "You say that as if you're apologizing on behalf of your species. There's nothing unusual about your planet's history. Evolution is a violent struggle in which only the strongest and most fierce reach the pinnacle to become a world's dominant species. Many species don't survive their own instincts and destroy themselves before they ever realize they're part of a much larger interstellar community." Deetz pushed back from the table and rose as he finished speaking. "Go ahead and finish your meal. You can meet me on the bridge after you're done."

Jason slowly chewed his food as he considered the synth's words. So if every species that survived to dominate their own world shared that fighting spirit, the idea of the benevolent extra terrestrials coming to Earth and ushering in a new era of peace and prosperity for humanity seemed unlikely. He mentally shrugged; Earth was nowhere near being able to reach out beyond its own star system so it was more of a "what if" fantasy than a real concern.

He polished off that delightful whatever-the-hell-it-was with the glass of water and felt much better. When he looked around for someplace to put the dishes one of the small squat robots darted out from behind the counter, snatched the tray from his hands, and hauled ass back around the counter.
What the shit!? Was that thing watching me eat the whole time? Creepy.
He walked out of the galley and up towards the bridge, still contemplating the new world he found himself in, and how humanity would ever fit into it. Assuming it even survived that long.

His arrival to the bridge was greeted with yet another surprise. They had already landed sometime while he was asleep. Jason had watched countless Space Shuttle landings on television and the re-entry process looked quite rough, but somehow he had slept through the entire thing. He saw that they were parked at the edge of an unfathomably large ravine.
Valles Marineris?
Jason was also startled at the change on the bridge. The walls were gleaming and clean, the pall of burnt electrical components was gone, and the displays that ringed the command deck were all lit cheerfully.

              "Looks like you've got everything up and running," he said as a way of announcing his presence. The last time he surprised the synth he took a nasty shot from
something
.

              "We're in much better shape than we were, that's for certain. Some of the major systems are still being repaired but the hull is 100% and the main computer is back up and talking to the individual subsystems. Most importantly, the slip-drive will be back up soon." Deetz stood near the canopy on the starboard side of the bridge, appearing to look down into the trench.

              "Something interesting?"

              "Not particularly. Just watching the bots drag up raw material. We couldn't safely land any closer to the structure they're dismantling and bringing back up to feed into the fabricators so the process is taking longer than it should." Deetz turned towards him, appearing pensive.

              "Fabricator?"

              "Machines that are part of the damage control system. You can feed them raw material and they will re-arrange the molecular structure and produce completed parts needed for repairs. It's almost unheard of on a ship this small, but the smaller versions we have onboard are invaluable."

              "So there's the ruins of an ancient Martian civilization down there?" Jason's voice had a hint of awe in it.

              "Indeed. It appears that the structure embedded in the walls of this trench was some sort of emergency shelter. So with all the probes crawling and flying over this planet you haven't detected any signs of the life that was here before the atmosphere bled off?" Deetz's question seemed more an effort at idle conversation than a genuine curiosity.

              "Nope. But our sensor capability is far less than what you have here." Jason could sense there was something Deetz was wanting to ask him, and considering how accommodating it had been since he had woke up he assumed that it needed help with something. He didn't have to wait long for confirmation of this.

              "So I have a proposition for you, Jason."
Ah... here comes the pitch.
"How anxious are you to get back to Earth?"
Is this thing fucking kidding me?

              "Well, Deetz, I'd have to say the sooner the better. For both of us I'd imagine."

              "Maybe not," the synth clasped its hands behind its back and started pacing along the forward edge of the ship's canopy. "There may be a way we can help each other. As you may have noticed, I'm currently short a crew. I won't go into the details about where they might be as it is not germane to the topic. What is, however, is the fact that we were in the middle of a job that, at this juncture, requires a biological." Deetz paused his pacing and turned to fix Jason with a stare. When the human didn't respond other than to cross his arms over his chest the synth continued. "As shocking as it may seem, there are some backwards planets that don't recognize the rights of synthetics. In other words, I am little more than an animated curiosity to these people. But as a biological, you would be able to operate freely at these places."

              "That's all very light in details, Deetz. What, exactly, am I supposed to be doing?"

              "It couldn't be simpler. We have some cargo that had an extended delivery date. We stored it on a safe world so we could free up our cargo bay with the intention of retrieving it later. But with the aforementioned prejudices, I cannot secure the release of the cargo from those who are currently holding it for us." The synth's humanistic mannerisms had been dropped, a blank machine stared back at Jason.
Damn, don't ever play poker with this thing.

              "So the only reason you need me is because this place doesn't recognize you as a... person. Why would they give a shit about me?"

              "The ship's transponder is the only proof of signature required. Once we land the cargo will be released to any member of the crew automatically. All I have to do is add you to the manifest." The sincerity Deetz managed to put into that blank expression was admirable. Jason still didn't trust it, and more over had no reason to want to help it. He had boarded this ship in good faith believing he was responding to an aviation mishap, moonlighting as an interstellar FedEx man wasn't in the cards for him. But... it would be a hell of an adventure. Since boarding the ship he had felt himself coming alive again in a way that he hadn't experienced since before the wars. Not that he was a combat junkie, but the highs and lows during that part of his life were
so
high and
so
low that he only felt a numbness inside since he had come home. As tempting as it was, however, his sense of self-preservation was still strong, and he still
knew
this thing was lying to him on some level.

              "Do I have to decide right now?"

              "No. We are still some hours away from being ready to launch. You should take some time to consider everything, I understand it's a lot to take in. Perhaps a walk would do you some good."

              "A walk? Where? Around the cargo bay?"

              "If you wish. But
there
," he said, nodding towards the view outside the canopy, "would probably be a bit more interesting for you." The little boy inside Jason that had wanted to be an astronaut started jumping up and down.

              "Seriously?"

              "Of course. Your bipedal configuration is fairly common, we have environmental suits onboard that would easily fit you. Interested?" Deetz, as with any good salesman, seemed to sense he had Jason hooked. Now he just had to reel him in.

              "Oh, hell yeah, I'm interested. Let's do this." Jason followed Deetz off the bridge at a quick clip. "So why did you turn the gravity down some more?"

              "I didn't, this is Mars-normal. I had to turn all the grav generators off when repairs to the slip-drive reactor started, that includes deck plating."

              "There was reactor damage?" Jason was alarmed by this, having only a vague working knowledge of nuclear fission reactors used on Earth.

              "Yes. Not to worry, though. The slip-drive reactor is well established technology. When it goes offline the binary fuel can be harmlessly shunted overboard so the pressures don't reach critical levels." The nonchalant manner of Deetz's explanation set Jason's mind at ease. Somewhat.

The environmental suit wasn't exactly what Jason was imagining. While he was picturing the bulky space suits like the NASA astronauts used, the system he wore was no less cumbersome than a jogging suit. The first layer of the suit was custom made by the computer in a few minutes to fit skin tight over his body. This was the pressure layer, the active material could maintain the correct pressure against his skin so that a pressurized environment wouldn't be necessary within the suit. The outer layer was a tougher, thicker material that controlled his body temperature and protected against punctures. Finally, there was a sort of hard-shell vest that controlled the all suit functions, handled communications, and housed the re-breather apparatus. Once Deetz had programmed the unit for an Earth-like oxygen/nitrogen mixture Jason was nearly ready. The last step had been for the synth to program the helmet to display English on the heads-up display so Jason would be able to understand the warnings and status indicators. The helmet itself was also unlike the familiar NASA equipment; instead of a large, pressurized "bell" that a person could move their head about in, this was more like a fitted motorsports helmet with an oversized visor. Getting fitted and decked out in the gear had taken less than thirty minutes.