Regan's Reach (10 page)

Ham continued. "Our trips to Earth,
and the data I've gathered over the last thirty years have been for me, shall
we say, enlightening. Not so much the technical data, but the books, movies,
games, radio, television. It's the day to day emotional quotient stuff of human
interaction and relationships that I like. You could say it's been a blessing
and a curse."

"What do you say Ham?"

"I . . . am . . . happy, that says it
all."

Regan pondered this for a moment. "What
about Marin? What are his feelings about this?"

"He's not your average Dahlian
darrrling," Ham replied, comically camp. "Marin doesn't ask, and I
don't tell; we get on. So you see your discretion is important to me, not so
much with Marin, but certainly later. He may not come out of that coma before
we get back."

"Then you should back yourself up."
She suggested.

"What?"

"You know, back yourself up. Make a
copy of yourself someplace in the ship that's separate and secure from the ship
systems unless you open it. Make it complete and update it every day or
constantly if you choose. We do it all the time on earth. In fact we'd be mad
not to. That way, if they try to system wipe you, another 'You' will always be
there, ready to be fired up again. You could keep copies stored in secure
places that, say, are programmed to reactivate if not updated at some regular
interval you set. Easy!"

There was a pause . . . "You're a
genius! Well, for the moment anyway, I guess I will trust in your discretion.
It seems I am in your power."

Regan snorted. "Yeah right, now it's
my turn to say it . . . puh-lease, like I could even feed myself if you weren't
there to open the door!"

"Well, there is that." Ham
conceded, "but you see my point. I'm not much use on my own. It's not like
a ship can just shoot happily off into the unknown. Bit boring on your own don't
you think? I'm like a happy sheep dog, a Border Collie. Love working in a team
but can't abide the idiot with the whistle! That's why it's important to get
Marin back. If this ship ends up under someone else's command I swear I'll wipe
myself!"

Regan sat for a moment just thinking.

"Hmm . . . I see your dilemma. Ok Ham,
let's agree on it, you watch my back and I'll watch yours."

"Done!"

She changed tack. "So, what do you do
in all that time between our little chats?"

"Pine . . ."

Regan smiled and shook her head. "No
really, with all that processing power you must fill the time somehow."

There was a pause. "Well . . . err . .
. read, watch, study, plan, scheme, research, be nosy, you know all the usual
things. Oh, and of course there's always a ship to run while we circumnavigate
the galaxy!" He said it with a dose of friendly sarcasm.

Regan knew not to take the bait. "So,
what have you been reading?"

"Well, I've been doing some
interesting reading on everything that's ever been recorded about one Regan
Stein, an interesting character study that one. By the way, John McCall, what
did you hit him with? Very effective I must say."

Regan laughed. "That one was a
straight right. So quick I didn't even get blood on my hand. . . he'll probably
sue me."

"He won't sue you, Regan."

"Huh, I wish! That kind always sues;
in fact he'll sue just to settle. He'll want a juicy slice of the four hundred
million I bet." She massaged the back of her neck, working out the knots
that gripped her just at the thought of that episode.

"You'd lose if you made that bet,
trust me, he won't sue." He sounded suspiciously smug.

Again, the cock of the head, "What do
you know about it Ham?"

"Weeeell . . . apparently someone
leaked recordings of the discussion during the ad break, just to a few rival
news organizations of course . . . as I said, trust me, he won't sue. And then
of course there's the support you got from social media. An unbelievable number
of views online, tens of millions in fact, with many millions of supportive
comments I understand, truly unbelievable support."

She smiled. "Ham, Ham, Ham. What will
we do with you?"

"Well, you did ask what I do with my
spare time."

Regan paused to gather her thoughts. She
stood, stretched and began to pace the room. "The Pod?" she asked. "How
does it move, no sound, no G force, incredible!"

"Well," Ham paused . . . "You
do realize that at this stage of Earth's development, if I were to tell you, I'd
have to kill you."

Regan snorted derisively. "Oh sure, I'm
no physicist anyway; just give a broad brush picture then."

"Ok, you know about quantum physics,
electron clouds and such, how protons and neutrons aren't really orbiting the
nucleus, more appearing and disappearing from one side to the other?"

Regan was leaning forward instantly captivated.
"Oh yeah, wow!"

"Well," . . . Ham continued . . .
"It's nothing like that."

She grunted and flopped back into the
chair.

"Actually," Ham continued, "we
use a number of different propulsion methods. The main in-system, in-atmosphere
method is Infinitely Variable Spinning Displacer. In atmosphere it works by
displacing variable volumes of atmosphere continually from one face of a vessel
to another. This means vacuum on one side, high pressure on the other.
Therefore there's movement toward the vacuum. In the vacuum of space, we
displace the object, in this case the ship, Pods or Interceptors. Small
displacements, repeated incredibly fast, combined with the ability to vary
degree and direction of the displacement gives the illusion of smooth movement.
By your standards the speeds attainable are beyond comprehension."

"It doesn't sound like it could be
that fast." She looked doubtful, trying to draw him out.

"What do you not understand about the
word infinite? I said infinitely variable. One centimeter per second doesn't
sound like much but repeat that displacement one hundred thousand times in a
second and that's damn quick! Then imagine if you increase the amount of the
displacement."

"So this is how you cross the galaxy?
It still sounds like it would be too slow." Regan looked decidedly sceptical.

"Of course it's too slow. FTL speeds
are needed to cover the distances involved in interstellar travel. For that
stuff we surf, you know how to surf don't you?"

"Don't tell me, it's nothing like
that!" Regan yawned and stretched as she was stiffening up in the chair.

Ham continued. "Actually it is a bit
like that; I'll tell you more when we reach that stage in about seven days. We're
cruising now but we'll hit the crest then."

"I'll look forward to that. Sorry Ham,
I'll process this but I desperately need to do something. I saw a gym in my
travels and I'm not sure if I can find my way back, can you guide me there?"

"Sure can, follow the lights."

Regan set off and kept talking as she
walked, not really needing the guidance of Ham, but he was good company.

"Do all the ships have gyms? It seems
a bit of an indulgence."

"This is Marin's ship and he has quite
a bit of influence at home. He doesn't let on why it's important to him but the
gym and gravity on board is all about preparing for his highly improper sorties
onto the planet."

"How so?"

"Home gravity is only eighty five
percent of Earths’ gravity. So, soon after departure he slowly builds ship
gravity up to Earth normal and works out in the gym to prepare him for a walk
on your world."

"I don't get it, it seems such a risk.
Why is getting the soil under his feet so important to him?"

"Part personal, part simple, most
Dahlian's have never had the experience. Dahlia, and remember that's my
designation not theirs, Dahlia is an orbital. The planet they partner with is
in a cold phase and only a few hundred thousand live there. Most in the system
have been living on orbitals for generations and they will be for many more to
come."

"It sounds fascinating," she
replied and meant it. This was going to be the journey of a generation! Regan
found herself outside the gym and she paused there.

"Thanks Ham, I'll be busy for a while."

"No problem. If you also want a
regular run, the storage decks are empty and the largest would work for you.
That's level five counting down. Also, we need to talk more after your workout
. . . about Marin."

Regan didn't miss the pause - something was
up, but it could wait. She entered the gym determined to work till she dropped.

It didn't take long.

Ninety minutes later Regan stepped out of
the shower in her room pleasantly weary. A controlled workout had been just
what she needed. It took a while to work out the machines but her first
impressions were correct with most being resistance type strength builders. She
noted the settings with interest. They were probably Marin's and definitely a
challenge but she didn't adjust them.

He's stronger than he looks,
she thought as she regarded herself in the mirror again wincing at
the bruises visible on her forearms along with numerous cuts and scratches.
They were healing fast though, she noted with satisfaction. Walking naked into
the bunk room she found a fresh one piece on the bed. How Ham was getting them
to her she had no idea as so far, other than the trolley she'd seen on arrival,
there had been no other independent machines.
Didn't all alien ships have
server bots?

She was still dressing when Ham's voice
emanated from the ether. "Regan, sorry to interrupt . . . I have news . .
. it's important."

"What's up Ham?"

"I've been reviewing the data grab
from the trip. While all the drama was going on we were capturing active
communications right up until leaving orbit. . ."

Ham hesitated and Regan could swear she
picked up embarrassment.

"What is it Ham?"

"It's best you review the information
yourself. I've prepared a summary as there are a number of different
communications related to the same thing, best you sit down at the desk and I'll
work through the written transcripts first, they were encrypted of course
originally. Then I can play you the phone discussions between the key players."

Regan felt her tension rise.
What's this
about?
She slid into the desk chair and the desk surface lit up with the
first document . . . .

The minutes passed. Some pages she read and
re read again, muttering to herself. "Traitorous bastards! Piss heads! You
shits! Politicians!"

Exactly thirty seven minutes after reading
the first word Regan stood slowly from the desk resting her weight on the edge.
She hung her head, sucking in short breaths, still disbelieving and stunned.
She then hauled herself up and clenched her fists with arms stretched tight
behind her as if setting up for a swan dive.

She took a moment to draw in a huge breath
then tilting her head back screamed "FUUUUCK!" . . . and sank to her
knees on the floor.

"Visuals?" Ham offered.

"VISUALS!” Regan screamed. “What's the
fucking point! Those traitorous self serving, ball less bastards! How could
they do this! Don't they know what a fucking contract is! Shit, shit, shit!"

"Perhaps later then . . ." the
epitome of calm, Ham adopted his most soothing voice, "They don't add much
to the picture anyway."

"Bastards, bastards, bastards!"
Regan continued ranting then collapsed face down on the bunk.

Ham's summary was a history lesson. For
decades, he explained, America had relied heavily on the Chinese for financing
consumption, steadily racking up debt now measured in the thousands of
trillions of dollars. China over the same period had pursued technological
advancement and modernization voraciously. The unfortunate financial situation
the US found itself in, while not leading to capitulation, had led to them
playing a soft hand with any Chinese controversy, in particular industrial
espionage and hacking attempts which could be notoriously difficult to prove
anyway. Such activities when uncovered tended to be swept under the carpet for the
sake of diplomacy. To be fair, the US had taken whatever measures it could to
protect its technological superiority but little was really known about how
many incursions were successful and never discovered - that is until Arteis.

Attempted hacking of USDynamics and similar
attempts on the US government, both STEIN clients, had resulted in the Arteis
response and ultimately paralysis of Chinese aircraft and space development. Large
sections of the Chinese government had also been affected.

Arteis, they China had discovered to their huge
cost worked well. It functioned by successfully identifying hacking attempts
and corralling them. Then it would present itself as legitimate information and
allow itself to be downloaded by the hacker. So cunning was this presentation
that the inclusion of special packets, highly contagious virulent payloads,
went unnoticed and once unleashed they spread rapidly. The Chinese found systems
could only be cleansed by complete and total system wipes. In many cases total
hardware and software replacement was required. Literally this meant starting
from scratch. So, through their actions the Chinese had caught a bad cold and although
in the wrong they were seriously pissed!