The Sons of Jupiter Read online

  Ada checked the charges on her multitool and the small hand-blasting pistol she had lifted from the ship’s armory. So far, so good. She swiped at a console at the wall, and the cover to one of the disposal chutes parted open. She wrinkled her nose at the smell. Ugh, she thought. She would have guessed an incineration system meant no bad smells. Apparently she was wrong.

  “Each level contains a choke-point in the chute,” Moses explained. “I will attempt to time the opening and closing of these as precisely as possible in order to get you safely to level eight.”

  She nodded. “Moses? What happens if you miscalculate the last point, and I go past level eight?”

  Beep. “That would be unfortunate. The disposal furnaces are currently inoperative.”

  “Oh.” She scrunched up her face. “That doesn’t sound so bad. So if we miss, I actually won’t be burnt to a crisp?”

  “No, because you will be sucked out into the vacuum.”

  Oh, right. She kept forgetting the ship’s damage.

  “Ok. Do me a favor, will you?”

  “Anything, Ada.”

  “Try not to let that happen.”

  “I will try my very best.”

  She clamored up on top of the chute and sat with her legs dangling inside. “Ok,” she said, “going in.”

  “Ready when you are.”

  She lowered herself inside, gripping the edge above with her hands for as long as she could. The chute was just narrow enough that she could splay her arms and legs out and hold still like a spider, but just wide enough that it took some real muscle control to do so. “Oh boy,” she breathed, feeling her core tighten more than she was used to. She was fit enough, but not in elite-athlete-conditioned shape. This was going to be a trial.

  The first couple of meters passed uneventfully. She inched her way down, bit by bit, left foot, right foot, left hand, right hand, finding a sort of halting rhythm. Then Moses stopped her.

  “I am having trouble with the first choke-point,” he said.

  She raised her eyebrows in the dark. “Don’t tell me I’m stuck down here.”

  “No, I am sure I will prevail, but he—”

  “Prevail? What are you talking about?”

  “My sub-routine has decided to take issue with the task at hand.”

  Ada was silent for a moment. “So shut him off. Take over the chute. What’s the big deal?”

  “Yes. I am attempting to do just that.”

  Attempting? He wasn’t inspiring much confidence. Ada shifted her weight, sniffing. She immediately regretted having breathed through her nose; whatever it was that smelled of rot, it was heavier down here. She shifted again, making a face, and her feet met slime.

  “Oh!” She slipped, sliding a half-meter without intending to, and just managed to stop herself. The walls of the chute had grown slick with grime. She bit back bile, refusing to vomit. That would only make things worse. “Moses? Hurry up, will you? I’m losing my footing, here.”

  “Yes, Ada, I am—I…” His voice broke up in her earpiece. She cursed, slipped again. This time when she thrust out her arms and legs, they only continued to slide down the sides of the chute.

  “Aagh!” She hit the bottom with an unceremonious thud. Happily, she hadn’t been very high above the choke-point, another valve in the chute. She took a moment to shake out her limbs and rub her biceps. They had been quivering before the fall. Standing now in the darkness, she took stock. She’d have another two levels to go once Moses got this valve open. It wasn’t going to be pretty.

  “Moses, what’s up? I appreciate the break, but time waits for no computer. You with me?” She spread her feet to the sides of the chute, waiting for the valve to open. When her earpiece chirped to life again, it wasn’t Moses’ voice she heard.

  “Hello, Ada.”

  Her mouth went dry. “Jeffrey,” she breathed.

  Chapter 3

  “Ease her out.” Keppler spoke in a tone of command from the rear of the cockpit. Gavin suppressed a sneer. The junior councilman had probably never flown his own ship in his life.

  “Aye, Sir,” he said between his teeth.

  “Stealth holding,” Agent Van said quietly.

  “That’s one hell of a mod,” Gavin muttered.

  “Yes,” Keppler said, “some things never change. I’m sure you had your fair amount of exposure to technology ahead of its time during your previous stint.”

  Van had plugged a datastick into the console and uploaded a program that effectively blocked the comet hopper from ship scans. Ninety-nine percent accurate, she had said. What about the other percent, he’d asked? She had shrugged.

  “Is it legal?” he asked, knowing the answer. Keppler only huffed through his nose. Plenty of advanced tech wasn’t legal. That didn’t stop the Council from employing it where they felt necessary.

  Now Gavin was piloting his hopper out of the Fairfax, with Keppler and Van onboard. He didn’t know that he could trust either of them. At least Van, he understood. Elite secret agents had a way about them. But politicians? Your inability to trust them was the only constant with any of them, in his experience.

  “Remind me,” he said, “why we’re running away from trouble and not toward it, if we’re actually here to make some kind of a difference?”

  Keppler frowned. “Trouble is an apt way of putting it. Specifically, not our trouble. I don’t know what that thing was, but it isn’t our mission. We have one goal right now: get the drones. You would do well to remember it, Agent Dolridge.”

  Gavin hunched a little lower in his seat. It rankled him to take orders from this man, it rankled him to run away from a fight, and it rankled him to abandon the Fairfax just after she’d lent them aid—especially when Caspar was onboard—but he had come because he knew, in spite of all of this, that Keppler was right. If they didn’t stop the drones, it might spell the end of the Colonies. Maybe of humanity. Some personal preferences were worthy of subjugating beneath stakes like those.

  Gavin threw the rear external cam onto the console screen as they slipped away. He took one look and whistled. Behind them, the belly of the Fairfax was ripped open to space, twisted metal spines reaching out as if pleading for the missing chunks of hull to come back.

  “That was our drones?” Keppler asked.

  Gavin and Van shared a glance. She switched the screen to portside cam, showing them the damage done to their own ship—much, much worse, but of a similar nature. “Yep,” she said.

  He sighed. “Will this thing be detectable to them? I mean… will your bit of coding keep us hidden, when we find them?”

  “Hope so. Of course—” She leaned back in her chair. “—they could always be that one percent.”

  Gavin felt Keppler seize up behind him. He tried to keep from grinning.

  They flew slowly through the debris field, not wanting to draw attention to themselves by knocking anything onto a new trajectory. They’d been at it maybe ten minutes when a shuttle shot out of the Fairfax behind them.

  “Now, that’s interesting,” Gavin said. Van looked at him, an eyebrow raised. “Your mod hides us from scans. But I’m guessing we’ll still be visible on a good old-fashioned cam.”

  Keppler cursed.

  “There,” Van said, pointing. Gavin peered at the screen and saw a particularly large chunk of derelict hull slowly rotating astern. “Can you get us behind that?”

  Gavin tilted his head. “That should do.”

  He piloted the hopper to the right of the debris, then came around as quickly as he dared. With the shuttle approaching, they didn’t want to stay in plain view any longer than necessary, debris field or no debris field. At the last moment, they turned a corner, veering around sharply and coming into the lee of the discarded chunk of hull.

  Gavin cursed. Directly ahead were two drones. His fingers flew to weaponry, but there was none on the hopper. They were dead in the water if the things spotted them, and at point-blank range, he found it difficult to imagine any piece of mod
ded cloak software would prevent that.

  “Wait!” Van said. She squinted at the screen. “They’re dead.”

  Gavin shook his head and stared at them for a long minute. “Huh,” he finally said. “You’re right. Must be a couple that we shot down earlier. I’m surprised they’re both in one piece.”

  The drone on the left flickered with lights.

  “And apparently operative,” Kepple said, his voice high and tight.

  “We’ve got no ship guns.” Gavin looked at Van. “Can you pilot this thing if I put on a suit?”

  She shook her head and stood. “I’ll do it. You just keep us flying.” Before he could argue, she’d left the cockpit. He huffed through his nose.

  “I like that one,” he said to Kepple.

  Kepple scoffed.

  One of the drones still drifted lifeless, the dull chrome shining back from the cam light. The other continued to hover beside it, lights flashing on and off. Gavin turned the hopper so that they were at its back. “You ready back there?” he yelled over his shoulder.

  “No need to shout,” Van said over the comm. Oh, right. There would be one of those in the suit.

  “Armed and ready?” he asked.

  “Locked and loaded. Let me get in the airlock. I’ll tell you when.”

  A few seconds later she gave the go-ahead, and Gavin swiped at the console to open the back-hatch.

  She could probably do some damage with a blasting rifle at this range. He only hoped it would be enough to put the thing out of commission, or deter it from attacking them. Odd that it hadn’t yet, he thought. He wondered if the AI was damaged.

  “Alright,” Van said over the comm, “all set! Cycle the lock.”

  “Already?” He punched it and turned to meet her in the cargo bay. That was quick.

  The inner lock doors slid open, and Gavin leapt back into a crouch. “What are you doing??”

  Van hadn’t shot the drone. She’d roped it and brought it in. She opened the top of her suit, taking a deep breath of air that still stank of dirt and potatoes. “That other one was too far gone,” she said. “Must have taken a pretty nasty hit. But this one, looks like some systems are still online. Thought we might have a look, see what there is to see.”

  “Are you out of your mind?” He drew his blasting pistol and began squeezing the trigger.

  “No!” Kepple shouted. “Stop!” He grabbed Gavin’s arm and tried to pull it away. Gavin grunted and threw the man off, but his aim was lost. Before he could take it again, Van stood between him and the drone.

  “Out of the way,” he said, raising the gun. “You seem like a good agent, Van. Would be a shame to have to kill you.”

  “Will you slow down and think about this for two seconds? We’re in intelligence. How better are you going to gather intelligence on these things than by studying one for a few hours?”

  “I know all I need to know about ‘em. Shoot on sight, that’s what’s needed here.”

  Van spat on the deck.

  “Oh,” Gavin said, “I know you didn’t just spit in my ship. Dirty and used she may be, but she’s no spittoon for junior agents and officers.”

  Van hocked up some phlegm to add.

  “Agent Dolridge,” Kepple said from behind him. “I’m ordering you to stand down. Now.”

  Gavin heard the click of a safety release, and smirked. “You know how to use that thing, Councilman?”

  “It would be difficult for anyone to miss at this range.”

  “Still, your provenance isn’t execution, it’s law. Give me the gun.” He reached a hand behind him, palm open. From behind Van, the drone whirred to life.

  “Lawgiver,” it said in a cold, metallic voice. “We seek the Lawgiver.”

  Van jumped. Gavin rolled to the side and got a shot off, but the hand gun did nothing to the drone’s tough hull. He growled, slamming an open palm into the deck in frustration.

  Kepple shrank back to the wall. “The Lawgiver? Who’s that?”

  On cue, two rows of tiny spiky legs shot out from beneath the drone. It crawled quickly across the deck, like an insect, Gavin thought, heading straight for Kepple. Then it stopped, inches from his face, and retracted the legs, sitting again.

  “I think it may mean you, Councilman,” Van said.

  Kepple’s eyes widened. Gavin cursed.

  “Lawgiver,” the cold voice repeated.

  Chapter 4

  Rylea was having a strange day.

  That was a bit meaningless, though, since every day in recent memory had been utterly exceptional compared to her life before. It had begun when the men had come and taken her from her home—well, it had been her brother Wally’s home; she had just lived there. He’d been old enough to look after her when their parents had disappeared the year before. So stupid, she knew now. They should have seen it coming. Their parents had cover jobs with a pharmaceutical firm, but both she and Wally had known that Mom and Dad did top secret research and development for the Empire.

  They were probably both a part of the project she’s been brought in for, at one point. Now she had no doubt they were both long dead.

  “How are you doing?” Erick asked. It shook her from her thoughts. She looked at him, his kind, soft face. He did a better job than most men of seeing her as more than what most men saw in most women. He felt… brotherly toward her, almost. She couldn’t reciprocate, not so soon after losing Wally, but she was glad for his kindness.

  Right now she was sitting slumped against the wall in the back of the Fairfax shuttle. The captain, Lucas, had come with them. He was piloting.

  “You need anything?” Erick said. She caught a glimpse of a mug of something warm and comforting in his mind. He wanted to bring her hot chocolate? She shook her head, smiling a little.

  “I’m alright. Just tired.”

  He nodded, sitting beside her. “It’s ok to be scared, too. I mean, I know I am.”

  Her smile widened. “I know.”

  “Ah, right.” He looked at his hands. “It’s just… you know. I worry about you. You seem really zoned out lately, and I want to be sure that—”

  “I’m ok, really.” He couldn’t possibly understand. Anyone would try to zone out if they were being bombarded by everyone else’s thoughts whenever they tuned in. She zoned out as much as she could. “You know what?” she said, “I could use something. There a dispenser on board?”

  “Yeah.” He smiled. “Hang on.”

  A few minutes later she was up front with Erick and Lucas, sipping on a mug of hot chocolate.

  “I’m assuming we’re heading in right direction,” Lucas said, “since this is the way the flock of drones went. Was it he who called them?”

  Rylea nodded.

  “Rylea.” Lucas turned in his chair. “Who is he? Why does he want you?”

  She shook her head. How to explain? “I know, and I don’t know. It’s difficult to put into words. I can feel him. Not really hear him—not hear thoughts—but it’s like he’s beside me, like I can hear him breathing. Feel his presence.”

  “That’s comforting.”

  “Not really.”

  Lucas inclined his head. “You’ll have to forgive me. I’ve been conditioned by a few weeks in the military to look at everything with as much dark humor as possible.”

  “It’s alright, I know.” She took a sip. “I’ve had to grow up a lot too, lately.” Being unable to shut out the minds on that prison ship… she was an altogether different person now.

  “I’m sure that’s true. Probably not your ideal coming-of-age.”

  “No,” she laughed darkly. Erick seemed to frown. He can deal with it, she thought. He’d have to get used to the new Rylea sooner or later.

  “What else can you feel about him?”

  She closed her eyes and tuned in.

  It wasn’t like anything else in the universe, but the best analogue her mind had devised was this: it was as if she were standing alone in a blank, black space, darkness all around her, no st
ars, no planets, not a whiff of life, only her, and she bore light, but only enough to see herself with. Then, slowly, as she had begun to learn how to do, she could focus on the others around her. She noted Erick’s familiar glow, and that of Lucas. Then she probed further.

  At the edges of her senses a sea of dim light represented the crew of the Fairfax. Opposite them, but much nearer, were three unfamiliar souls. She focused on them for a moment, but none of them belonged to him.

  Further still was a distant humming, a sort of rumbling, flashes of strange colors, like and unlike the light of herself and the others. She’d seen it recently, and recognized it as the strange AI collective that operated the drone swarm. It was a truly odd thing, meeting that machine-like consciousness. As of yet, she didn’t understand its thoughts, but she recognized them as such.

  In the midst of the swarm, he was. He shone like a beacon in her mind, exerting almost physical pressure on her senses. He was brighter than all the rest of them lobbed together, and yet he was undeniably one. Rylea shivered.

  She felt him feel her, felt him realize that she was “looking” at him, and he called to her. Rylea, the voice said. It was softened with distance, but still commanding. Come.

  She frowned. Why? she asked.

  There was no answer in words; only a sort of muted curiosity, one that bred curiosity in her as well.

  “He’s there.” She opened her eyes. “Dead ahead. With the drones.”

  Lucas’ mouth took on a grim set. She felt dread and determination rolling off him like steam off a boiling lake. “Any idea what he wants with you?”

  She shrugged. “He’s like me. Maybe he wants… I don’t know. Maybe he’s acquiring power.”

  “Power,” Lucas repeated, gazing at her. It wasn’t a question. She felt his hesitation, doubt for the first time in her motives, her character.

  “I’m not interested in helping anyone gain power,” she said, “don’t worry. I just wanted to get your ship out of danger. I’m not afraid of him, whatever he wants.”

  “I am,” Erick said quietly. Rylea got a bit of mixed messaging from him, too, and not for the first time. Usually he felt nothing but protective toward her, but occasionally there was fear. It stung like a splash of ice-water.