Microstory 2636: Don’t Forget To Bring a Towel

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Trilby throws a silky towel at her. “I hope you understand that I removed your clothes to provide you with medical treatment. I would have been waiting for you on the landing pad, but you showed up way too early. Why didn’t you go down on a slower trip, with the animals? That would have been a lot safer for your fragile human body.”

“They would have caught me,” Mandica explains briefly. “What is this?”

“Temporary,” he says. “I call it the cloak of invisibility. You will be perfectly visible to the naked eye while we’re out there, but the identity sensors won’t spot you. You will appear as an infrared aberration, caused normally by too many people beaming data to each other’s devices at the same time. We will take a particular route to where we’re going so that sort of thing doesn’t stand out.”

She frowns at the towel. Yeah, it isn’t a cloak, it is a towel. No hood, no draw string. It is see-through, but still just a big cloth square. “Will I not look a little odd, walking around with this thing over my head?”

Trilby laughs heartily. “Odd? Sweetheart, you’re on Castlebourne now. My next door neighbor is a giant beetle, and is probably smarter than me. They might as well call this world Substrate City. You’re not going to stand out. There is no way to stand out on this planet. Everyone is here to formulate their unique identity, and they change by their whims all the time. Now. Functionally, you’re rare. There are a few communities here who are just as unenhanced—less unenhanced, in fact—and they are not insignificant, but most people change bodies like you might change your hairstyle. But don’t worry, you can’t tell, and people are careful around each other, because there’s no way to know. No one’s gonna shoot you with a gun under the assumption that you’ll survive.” He taps his middle finger on a screen. “I took the liberty of building you your own modified prospectus. The green domes are fine. You’ll be safe in any of those. I’m talkin’ your residential areas, your museums, your educational historical recreations.

“Yellow, a little more dangerous. They have ways of protecting visitors. If they’re a normal human, the Custodians will make accommodations. They might even separate the unenhanced from the enhanced so there’s never any question. Red are no-go zones. Most of them are specifically designed for people who have disposable substrates. A visitor might even end up getting a whole fleet of bodies to switch to one by one. If someone like you without the spoof lenses were to try to sneak in, the sensors would flag them so fast, their head would spin off. Apparently, there was one guy years ago who got stuck in a dangerous game and nearly died because the people who were trying to murder him hacked the system. They won’t let that happen again. They installed new sensors all around the world, and are constantly checking. You will be walking around basically as an admin. They’ll let you in anywhere, but that’s why I made this list for you, so you can decide what you’re willing to risk. You need to understand your options.”

“You said something about spoof lenses?”

“Yes, it’s not just those. They have multiple ways of tracking identities, the most common of which is an eye scan. They also—”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Mandica interrupts. “If people are changing bodies, and your neighbor is an insect, how would a retinal scan even be possible in a place like this?”

“It’s not only a retinal scan. The retinal scan is a second stage identifier that the system will only perform if the first stage scan turns up blank. Everyone capable of transferring their consciousness is given a unique watermark, placed upon their optic nerves. I don’t know if you know this, but humans have a natural blindspot in their eyes due to where the optic nerves connect to the eyes. Your brain fills in the blanks, but you can’t see light that hits that spot. Fortunately for optic void scanners, though, light does still hit that spot. They shoot an invisible laser into it to read someone’s watermark, to know who they are. They don’t even have to keep their eyes open. It can pass through eyelids, and many other materials. For a normal person, if it doesn’t detect that watermark, it will default to the retinal scan, and register your preferences and restrictions.” He points at the invisibility towel. “The scanner can’t pass through that, so it will see infrared interference, and not see your unregistered eyes.”

“Why do I need the towel if I have these spoof lenses?”

“You don’t have the spoof lenses yet. The woman who’s getting them for me is on the other side of the planet. We have to travel to her first. Before you ask, she can’t come to us, because she’s also protecting you from brainwave scanners. That’s another thing you need in order to be a ghost. They’re becoming more common. They’ll never do away with the optic void scanning system, but spoofing an authorized watermark is easier than fooling a brain scan. Don’t tell anyone, but about zero-point-zero-zero-one percent of the time, a cloned or bioprinted body doesn’t produce the watermark correctly, and it has to be fixed, either with a new replacement, or a visit to the optomeger.”

“This woman with the brain scanner—”

“The baseline imager. A brain scanner verifies your brainwaves. The baseline imager is the thing that inputs in the data. It’s highly regulated. There are only a few of them in the world. People would notice if she borrowed it and took it on a vactrain.”

“I see. The baseline imager woman; can she be trusted?”

“She’s already done for me what she’s about to do for you,” Trilby explains. “She holds a special office in a special government for a special community. They were refugees fleeing oppression, and live here permanently, not simply as visitors. Apparently, her now-husband initially refused to be enhanced, so she’s sympathetic to that sentiment, even though he’s now just like her, and I am too. The only reason she’s keeping him out of it is so that he can have plausible deniability, but I told her about you, and she thinks you and the Superintendent would get along.”

“Okay, I think I have all the information I need. I should say, I trust you. Let’s go out there and walk around like ghosts, me moreso than you.”

“I appreciate the vote of confidence.”

And so the two of them leave the apartment. Trilby already has his spoof lenses on, but Mandica has to stay under the towel the whole time. He seems to have been right. People don’t even just ignore her. They smile and greet her as if she is just another regular person on this bizarrely accepting planet. She doesn’t see any giant beetle people, but a few who look decidedly unhuman. A lot of animals, but also alien-like beings that don’t match to something that ever existed on Earth. She’s starting to feel more comfortable here, like she can actually breathe and live a life. 

After only a few hours, they have made it to a dome that’s just called Capital. They enter a gorgeous woman’s office, who holds her hand out, sporting a very kind smile. “Hi. I’m Deputy Superintendent Yunil Tereth. I hear you would like to stay unregistered. Why don’t you have a seat?”

Tangent Point: Consensus (Part V)

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Reed was in a virtual simulation again, along with Delegator Chariot, as everyone was allowed to come as a duo. They were in a much more comfortable environment than the one that they had been using separately. Now was the meeting where they were all coming together to hammer this out. As the Tangent approached Proxima Doma, they had to come to an agreement. There was only one elevator platform, and it couldn’t be in two places at once. Both poles were going to be evacuated, but each one would take months, so who had the honor of going first?

They were all sitting around a table. It was a purple theme, evidently based on a known diplomatic ship called the Vellani Ambassador. Portraits of the crew were even on the walls, suggesting that this simulation took real imagery from base reality. The meeting was small. Two representatives from the northern pole, two from the southern pole, and two from Teagarden. Most star systems were afforded a couple of Teaguardian ships to watch over them in case something happened. Obviously, that had already proved insufficient, but they were still here, and would be able to help with the evacuation procedures. The platform was going to hover over each pole, and expend massive amounts of fuel to do it. They needed resupply to make that work, and for constant transport off the platform. Every body weighed it down, so evacuees weren’t going to be staying there for long. Climbing up the tethers was only the first step.

The leader of the Teagarden’s contingency held the rank of president. It was one rank above captain, and the president assigned to the Proxima Centauri system was indeed here in this construct, but in a secondary capacity since he was not the highest ranking member. No, more Teaguardians were dispatched from neighboring systems, including Bungula. There were presently eleven of these ships in the system. But still, not even the coronel of those eleven Teaguardians was in charge. This went all the way to the tippy-top. Matar Galo was only called in for really big issues. Reed would have thought that she was too busy with other things, but apparently, this took precedence. None of this was real, but she was nearby in base reality, in one of those Teaguardians. Reed really wanted to know how they traveled faster than light.

Matar Galo cleared her throat. “Welcome to the evacuation dispute between the northern and southern poles of Proxima Doma, Proxima Centauri, as it relates to the emergency rescue efforts provided by the Bungulan Space Elevator Platform known as The Tangent. I am your host, Matar Tiare Galo of the Teagarden Stellar Neighborhood Aid Service, and I would like to remind you that these evacuation procedures happen at the pleasure of Teagarden. The Tangent is a stolen vessel, and while we have tentatively agreed to the continuation of this mission for the sake of hostages, we do so under heavy duress. This is not a question of whether Executor Reed Ellis has the authority to maintain his command over the Tangent, nor what rights the Bungulan government has over it. That is a separate issue, which is why no Bungulan representatives are present. It is important to note, however, that decisions are subject to change, and what we decide here may be rendered irrelevant before certain actions can be completed, or indeed even begin. Furthermore, Executor Ellis, while we recognize your leadership for the time being, it is not up to you which pole receives aid first. It is up to them to come to the decision between themselves. You are here predominantly as a guest, and will listen respectfully, speaking only when appropriate. Is that understood?”

“Yes, sir, it is,” Reed replied.

“Delegator Chariot?”

“Agreed,” Jodene replied.

“Very well,” the Matar continued. “This is not a structured debate. I am here to facilitate discussion, but I am not an official moderator. The representatives from the poles are free to proceed as they see fit. I will only step in if talks devolve into unproductive or unrelated speech, or escalate towards violence.” She paused for a moment before prompting, “go ahead.”

Reed had already heard all of their arguments, and was prepared to hear them all rehashed here. There were more people in the north, so they needed to be cleared out more quickly. The south argued that that was a failure in leadership. The reason things were better for them was because they made a concerted effort to rescue those who lived in the lower latitudes. They built a four-kilometer bridge in a matter of hours after the ring faults broke apart. They figured they ought to be rewarded for their hard work, not punished for being too good. And besides, there were fewer people because a giant mountain range made the southeast arc of the Terminator Line too treacherous to colonize. The northerners were going to contend that there was a brand new dome in the south pole, which was more than enough to sustain the refugees for a while. The north was maxed out, they needed help the most. The south could be rescued faster due to their lower population, but that didn’t really matter. The number of people who could be transported—and more importantly, the number of people who were waiting for transport—would be the same, regardless of which side got to go first.

“We’ve already worked it out,” Delegator Sarkozi began with a weird smile. “The southern polar region concedes its bid, and congratulates the northern pole on its win.”

They swung their chins towards Xaovi Rue, who nodded. “The northern polar region accepts the southern pole’s concession, and happily welcomes the Tangent to begin evacuation procedures as soon as they are in place.”

“What happened here?” Matar Galo questioned.

“You said you wouldn’t get involved unless you had to,” Delegator Sarkozi reminded her. “Things are fine, we came to a decision amongst ourselves beforehand.”

“Yeah, well, that sounds suspicious,” Matar Galo says. “It sounds like we could be dealing with blackmail, or something worse, like an abduction.”

“Your mind goes to 21st century b-movie intrigue,” Xaovi argued. “It’s nothing like that. We’ve decided to snag the quickest win first. It will take a little bit longer to evacuate the south as it will the north, so the math just makes sense to us now.”

“That’s not true,” Delegator Chariot insisted. “The northern polar region has a much higher population, even though the northern hemisphere suffered more deaths during the initial evacuation.”

“Delegator Chariot, you were not asked to weigh in,” Matar Galo scolded. “That being said, I too would like an explanation.”

“We’re not leaving,” Xaovi replied. “Most of us aren’t, anyway. This is our home, and we’re going to make it work. The ground is stable, and anything we’ve lost, we will rebuild. Make no mistake, we will not prevent anyone from evacuating from the north. In fact, we encourage it. It will just give us more room, which we need. The new carbon scrubbers we added are great, but we don’t want it to last forever.”

Reed shook his head, but kept his mouth shut. He wanted to argue that they were being foolish. Researchers still didn’t understand the long-term effects of living on that planet. The cataclysm appeared to end months ago, but they didn’t know for sure that nothing further was going to happen. Lava could be trickling in through natural underground tunnels. They just didn’t know. The whole reason he and his people stole the Tangent was to execute this rescue. They were only here for these people. Colonizing this world had turned out to be a mistake. It was unsafe. They couldn’t go back in time to fix that, but that certainly didn’t mean they had to stay. They were being stubborn and stupid. The only logical response to this mess was to get the fuck out.

“Executor Ellis,” Matar Galo began, “I appreciate you biting your tongue.

“Call him Captain Ellis,” Delegator Chariot all but demanded. “Even if you don’t agree with how he came to power, he does have that power now. He commands a full channel of crewmembers.” The two of them had grown closer over these last few months. Jodene had a hard time rectifying this in her head. The mutiny was immoral, that much she believed, but she had come to believe in the mission too. She was quite conflicted about it, and he tried not to push her. They held their philosophical discussions when they weren’t putting out fires together, but they never argued. She had come to see things in a new light due to the success of their work. They suspected that the Teaguardians felt about the same way. Their attempts at stopping them midflight were laughably weak...almost unbelievably ineffective.

“Very well,” Matar Galo said. “Captain Ellis, I think we all know your position here, and in this case, I must admit to agreeing with you. Premier Rue, I urge you to reconsider. You and your people can always return, but if you don’t leave now, there will be no second chances. After evacuation is complete, I will be demanding the Tangent move on from here. Whether you’re first or second, once the platform leaves, it’s gone. You won’t be able to change your minds.”

“Actually, I won’t bite my tongue,” Reed jumped in. “If you do end up changing your minds after we’ve left, I will not be returning. Matar Galo and the Bungulan government will not need to convince me to leave permanently. The hostage crisis will be over at that point, and I will relinquish my leverage. Xaovi, don’t do this. Clarita, persuade it not to do this.”

“As I was saying,” Xaovi went on, not letting Clarita speak, “I will force no one to stay, but I won’t force them to leave either. If you would like to try your hand at convincing them to get in those pods, go ahead. I’ll give you the broadcast codes freely. We’ve been listening to our people. They want to stay. I will be staying with them.”

Matar Galo breathed. “Captain Ellis, Delegator Chariot, I assume you have a plan in place. You know the logistics of how you’re going to get people up the tethers?”

“We do,” Reed responded.

“Then do it,” the Matar ordered. “Maneuver the Tangent into position over the north pole, drop the lines, and start pulling people up. No more decisions need be made, this meeting is over.” She stood up. “Thank you all for coming. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must get to a quantum meeting with the Altaren ambassador.” She de-resed. There was something different about it, though. It didn’t look like it did from most simulations. It was more like the flickering of a hologram. Maybe this wasn’t so virtual after all.

Reed and Jodene de-resed as well, waking up in the former’s office. He was leaning back in his chair while she was lying on the couch. Shasta was still in the guest chair, doing something on her handheld. “How did it go?” she asked them.

“We’re going north first,” Reed answered.

Shasta started to leave. “I’ll inform the pilot, and prep the ground crew.”

“I wanna be on that,” Jodene said to her.

“We’re meeting in Drop Bay One in twenty minutes to go over safety procedures,” Shasta told her without turning around.

Jodene turned back to Reed after the door reclosed. “Don’t think I didn’t catch the way you worded your little speech in there. You said you would be giving up the hostages, but you never said you would be giving the Tangent back to Bungula.”

Reed only cleared his throat.

“You’ve said you would before. It was one of your main arguments, that this was temporary. What’s changed?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She smirked. “You think you can escape. With four torches, you think you can escape? Reed, the Teaguardians have FTL.”

“Not all of them,” he reasoned.

“The ones who do will catch up. They could be clear on the other side of the neighborhood, and they will still eventually catch up to us.”

“Us?” he echoed.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she echoed him right back. She stood up. “You said you would go to jail willingly. Obviously, you don’t actually—”

“I don’t care about me,” he explained. “I care about them.” He gestured towards the door. “Even the original crew has been helping us, and some without much convincing. I’m worried about two things here. I’m worried about Teagarden’s superior firepower, and I’m worried about Bungula’s grudge, and plans for revenge. Neither party has what the other does, so we either need to take away Teagarden’s advantage, or Bungula’s motivation...not both. And I do mean we. I want you with me...all in.”

She nodded. “Let’s see how the evacuation goes. I won’t place my chips on a square until I see where the ball is gonna land.”

“Well, you can’t wait, the casino would kick you out. It would be an illegal move.”

“This all started because of your illegal move.”

“Touché.”

Sixty-nine days later, the northern polar region was evacuated to the extent of their inclinations. Matar Galo stayed in the star system to spearhead a campaign to change people’s minds, but it was impossible to know for sure if her words made any impact. On an individual level, they didn’t know what anyone was planning to do before she started speaking on it. The numbers did seem to go up in her favor, but that could have been the result of poor polling methods. It was now time to move on to the southern pole. The very last elevator pod was just coming up the tethers. It was mostly only carrying the Bungulan ground workers, but also a few Proxima Domanians who agreed to stay down there for over two months to help coordinate.

“Wait, they’re already here?” Reed questioned. “As of thirty minutes ago, they hadn’t even left yet.”

“They made it an express trip,” Shasta explained. “A quarter hour total.”

“I didn’t approve that.”

“They were anxious to get back up here.”

“Were the Domanians with them even trained for the high-g acceleration?”

“The report didn’t say, but they were on it, plus one single final straggler.”

“I would like to meet them,” Reed ordered, “the Domanians, and whoever decided that it would be an express trip.”

Shortly thereafter, they arrived. He first spoke alone with the two crewmembers who claimed responsibility over the decision to pull the elevator up at extremely high speeds. Express trips were not uncommon, but they did not have time to install inertial dampeners in every single pod, and the stress it placed on tethers outweighed the benefits of it anyway. That was why they hadn’t been doing it like that the whole time. Now those tethers would have to be thoroughly examined, and potentially repaired or replaced entirely. They were sent to hock—probably while covering for other responsible parties—for twenty-four hours, and would be assigned tether testing duty. They accepted their fairly light punishment without any argument, and would not be a problem moving forward.

He was now standing before the five Domanian volunteers, looking over the report. “What’s this thing with you?”

One of them peeked over the edge of his tablet to see what he was seeing. “That’s Heracles, our beetloid. He saved Calypso’s life, and has been all-around helpful.”

“A beetloid,” Reed thought out loud.

“You don’t have those on Bungula?” the apparent leader asked.

“We do not. Something like that might come in handy on the Tangent. Would you be willing to provide us with its specifications?”

“We don’t have them,” a man said. “He’s a survivor, like us. None of us designed him, though.”

Reed nodded. “Forgive me. I should have started with introductions. I’m Captain Reed Ellis. And you are?” he asked, holding his hand out to the leader.

“Breanna Jeffries,” she answered, shaking his hand. He shook the hand of the rest as she listed them off. “This is Cashmere Hartland, Notus Konn, Calypso Rotola, and Sorel Arts.”

“It’s nice to meet you all. According to this report, you did a fine job on the ground when you could have done the bare minimum to satisfy the Delegator’s impromptu enlistment. If it were me, I would have just let you up here with a tight nod, but she was in charge down there. I am wondering what the plan is next. Have you thought about where you might want to go? Teagarden is facilitating ferry trips to the interstellar cyclers. Some are going to Earth, others to Bungula, but that’s proving...politically challenging in this situation.”

“Are you asking us to stay?” Breanna questioned.

“There’s plenty of room for a bunch of go-getters like you,” Reed explained. “We could sure use your help with the southern evacuees. It’s going to be a much bigger job, and you already know what you’re doing.”

“I wasn’t a part of that,” Sorel said. “I was transferring people off-world digitally, mostly to Castlebourne, and would like to continue doing that, if you’ll allow me to take a pod back down to the surface.”

“That can be arranged,” Reed determined. “The uploading option makes it easier on us, so we’re in favor of it. And the rest of you?”

They exchanged looks and came to an unspoken consensus. “Yes, I think we can keep going. We never made any plans for the future.”

“Great,” Reed said. “One more thing. What can you tell me about these two?” He showed them a picture of this group from Elevator Ingress months ago, standing next to a man and a woman who looked like they could be related. He had seen the man before, in a portrait at the meeting on the Vellani Ambassador.

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Microstory 2629: Last One in, First One Up, Like a Skeptic

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January 24, 2527. When the survivors submitted a reapplication to the dome because of Aeterna’s pregnancy, they informed the leaders that there were eleven people, one beetloid, and one optional rover. When the dome agreed to that application, they agreed to those numbers, and they were firm on them. So when they showed up at the back door as a group of fifteen, it was a problem. It’s not like four extra people were going to choke out the carbon scrubbers or broil the residents out of existence, but it was a principle that they weren’t willing to let go of. Eleven people could walk in, or fewer, but not more. It would have been very easy to force the four who weren’t in their group to stay on the outside if not for the fact that they were a family with young children. It was the little boy who spotted one of them, and the mother who decided to stop and investigate. Shimizu’s camouflage was working fine, but he had tied a shiny purple scarf tied to his ankle in remembrance of a loved one, and that stood out amidst the dull colors of the rocky world. So it would have been easy to kick Shimizu out too, but that would have only solved one of their four problems anyway.

Obviously, as they always felt like these people were their responsibility, Breanna and Cash chose to pull themselves out of the running, which only left two extra bodies to get rid of. Notus, still feeling guilty about what he did to get into this group, was one of them. The other was Calypso, who may have feelings for him, or is simply a nice person. They said their goodbyes to their friends once again, and made the walk back out into the wilderness. Cash recalled the rover to pick them up. Silver lining, there was a lot more room in the vehicle now that most of the people were gone. That was over three months ago, and their journey may be nearly complete.

Everyone in the rover is napping when the alarm begins. It’s not too urgent, but it’s enough to wake them up. Before too long, a man appears on screen. “People of Proxima Doma. My name is Captain Reed Ellis of the BSE Tangent. We are a space elevator from your neighbor, Bungula, Rigil Kentaurus. You may have heard stories of how I came to power, and how this platform ended up en route to you. I say, if you take issue with how we came to be here, you do not have to participate in the evacuation. You may stay on the surface if you wish. We will not force you to leave. But if you do step on that elevator pod, we have some rules for you to follow, which will be presented to you in time. At the moment, we are hovering directly over the northern pole of your planet. Our fleet of pods are making their way down to you, and the first evacuees will board shortly. If you are currently in the southern polar region, do not fret. We have been negotiating with your leadership, and have been told that you will be fine without us until we finish with your northern friends. We promise, we will get to you as soon as possible.

“My crew has been scanning the ground, and gathering information on the distribution of the population. A plan has already been made to determine the order of departure. You will receive word from your local representatives of your individual and group assignments. Disorder will not be tolerated. Violence will be met with swift action, and a potential refusal from my ground-based coordinators, who are presently descending in the first pod, along with a heavy security contingency, which is prepared for any eventuality. I would like to apologize for the delay in our arrival, but we are here now, and ready to bring you on board in a safe and organized fashion. Stand by for further instructions.” The broadcast ends.

“What a handsome man,” Cash noted.

“Are you leaving me for him?” Breanna asks.

“In a heartbeat.”

Reed Ellis suddenly reappears on screen. “This message is for all extra-domal survivors. It is clear that the situation on the ground is dire, but we expected a greater level of respect and compassion than we have seen. As reward for your patience, and survival outside of the community, we would like to extend an offer to be part of the first wave of evacuees. Anyone outside of any dome, navigate to the attached coordinates for early boarding procedures. You may be tempted to spread the word about this gift, but it is not for anyone else to know. This is for you and you alone, because you have been living without support for months, and deserve the first chance at stability. Please contact this inbox for questions, or ask your boarding coordinators on site. Thank you.”

They all exchange a look. Breanna gets on the horn. “Tertius? You were right. They’re letting us go up first. Get everyone, including your daughter and granddaughter, and meet us at the back door. Keep quiet about it. They don’t want us doing this.”

“Ten-sixty-nine, message received,” Tertius replies.

They carefully and slowly drive back to the dome. They’ve stayed in the shadows since the whole race into the dome a few months ago, so luckily, no one is trying to follow them this time. Their friends aren’t alone when they arrive at the door. A guy who seemingly works there is holding it open for them. “Are you coming too?” Breanna asks.

“My responsibility is to the people of Skylight Kingdom. I will remain at my post until I have no more charges to protect. Until then, I bid you all good luck.” He closes the door once everyone has gotten back into the rover, for the last time.

“We—we’re missing one,” Cash points out.

“Yeah, we lost touch with Shimizu,” Tertius says as he’s helping his daughter get situated. Her baby, Dilara was born in the dome, and is safe in a vacuum carry-cot.

“Oh, no, I hope he’s okay.” Notus with the unmistakably feigned concern.

From there, they drive onwards to the coordinates that the Captain sent them and the other outside rovers. Surely the dome people would have noticed by now, but it sounds like the Tangent people are prepared to handle it. The first pod has landed, from the descent tethers, and is being transported over to the ascent tethers. They can see more pods dropping down from the sky. The survivors are directed to enter an inflatable habitat, where they are free to remove their helmets, and get in the queue. It’s already pretty long, but not as long as it will be soon enough. A regal woman who seems to be in charge around here climbs down the steps, and approaches Breanna’s group. “My name is Jodene Chariot. I welcome you to Elevator Ingress, but you should know that we tagged every vehicle, and traced its route. You didn’t follow instructions.”

“We’re sorry,” Breanna says. “We had to get our friends...and the baby.”

Delegator Chariot smiles. “It’s okay. Children are our future. we’re still gonna let all of you up,but not all right away. Your actions will come at a price.”

“I’ll pay it,” Breanna insists. “They were following my orders.”

“I appreciate it,” Chariot responds, “but I’ll need six of you total. You see, we’re not as equipped to handle this as we would like. We could use some volunteer workers.”

Cash unsurprisingly volunteers. Notus and Calypso exchange a glance before the former looks back at the Delegator. “How about four and a beetloid?”

Tangent Point: Trial by Fire (Part II)

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The chaos on the bridge was hard to track for most, but not for Reed. He knew who his people were, which meant, by process of elimination, he could find all of his targets, which they were choosing to call tangentials. He was grateful to Aletha’s special weaponry, which allowed him to fire nearly indiscriminately, knowing that anyone who died would simply wake up in a new body, and anyone stunned would be unconscious for a few hours. The advantage in this surprise attack was that they were all meant to be friends here. No one was wearing special clothing or markers to identify which side they were on. So the tangentials were actually targeting each other, in addition to Reed and his people. They were clocking everyone as a threat, because it could have been anyone. All they saw were guns raised, and that was more than enough reason to shoot now and ask questions later. In the past, that was only a joke, but the tangentials actually would be able to do that here...assuming they won, which they weren’t going to.

As Reed was taking control here, an AI voice was summarizing the progress in other sectors of The Tangent. The plans in those other sectors were developing more smoothly. The tangentials were caught by surprise, and largely unarmed. Members of the security team were scattered about, and they were firing back, but for the most part, Reed’s commandeerers were winning. According to live reports, their biggest hurdle was engineering. Almost all of Reed’s people had been disarmed. The one who called to warn him about it was able to hold her own, but she was pinned down, and alone. Reed ducked behind a console and tried to whisper, “get me more people to engineering. All available units, help secure engineering.”

Annoyingly, someone hiding behind a nearby console heard him. It was the one who recognized Reed despite his advanced age in this body. Reed recognized him right back, though he couldn’t remember his name. “Security!” the guy yelled into his own communicator. “Get to engineering! Don’t let them take engineering!”

“Argh,” Reed complained, shooting the guy in the head, a bit disappointed in himself for feeling satisfaction at that. Now he had to get to engineering himself so he could assume direct responsibility for it. He assumed that the bridge would be the hardest to hold, but that was looking fine for now.

“Seal the bulkheads!” he heard one of his people demand.

Reed got up to survey the scene. It was theirs. The bridge was theirs. Two of the commandeerers were shooting at anyone trying to make it through the entrance while one of them had a gun trained on the Head Architect’s head as he was sitting in the captain’s chair, cowering.

“Seal them now!” Vasily repeated. “Do it!”

“I—I, I, I don’t have authorization,” the architect claimed.

Reed walked over there with authority and presence. “We know that you do. There’s no way you built this thing without being able to control it. It would have been impossible. Just close the doors, and grant me command access.”

“You’ll have to kill me,” the architect spat.

“That can be arranged.” Reed lifted his own weapon, and pointed it at the architect too. The autophaser switched to stun mode. “You’re undigitized.”

“Is there any other way to truly live?” the architect questioned.

Reed lowered his gun and sighed as he looked over at the other gun threatening the architect’s life. “Vasily. Why is your weapon on manual?”

“Because this is serious,” Vasily replied.

“Take it off manual...right now.”

“He needs to know that we’re not playing around. The doors will close, whether he wants them to or not.” Vasily looked back at his target. “Do you want them to?”

“No,” the architect answered, growing bolder.

They heard a stirring on the floor. It was Ajax, who was not only a captain, but the captain of the Tangent.

“Well, he can close them too, can’t he?” Vasily decided.

“Vasily,” Reed warned.

“You’re next if you don’t help us,” Vasily explained, looking down at Ajax, who was starting to stand back up. Then he shot the architect point blank. He was dead now; not backed-up, not set to heal from his wounds, but completely, totally, and permanently dead.

“Vasily!” Reed cried. “What the hell did you just do!”

“What I had to!” Vasily volleyed.

Frustrated, but more afraid of losing control of the situation, Reed lifted his gun again, this time at his own compatriot. He squeezed the trigger, but nothing happened.

Vasily smirked. “Did Aletha not tell you that it also comes with an anti-friendly fire function? We programmed everyone into the system.”

“That was reckless,” Reed argued. “You created an entire manifest of dissidents. If that had leaked, they could have stopped this all before it began.”

“Well, that didn’t happen, and they obviously know who we are now anyway.”

“But only some of us will be trapped on Bungula after the Tangent launches.”

“Who?” Vasily questioned.

Reed pulled out his knife, and unfortunately jammed it into Vasily’s head.

“Why hast thou forsaken me?” Vasily’s dying brain asked as the blood was running down his cheek.

“We’re rebelling against the cowardly government...not me,” Reed answered.

Vasily’s former substrate fell to the floor.

Captain Ajax stepped over the body. “You want the doors sealed, I’ll seal them. Just don’t kill anyone. Enhanced people still feel pain, ya know.” He tapped his code into the chair interface, and closed the doors. “That code will do most of what you need until it expires, but you won’t have full, permanent authorization, and I’m not going to help you get it.” He contorted his jaw, and crunched down. The cyanide foamed in his mouth, and then he fell down on top of Vasily’s previous body.

Already tired, Reed reached down and input the same code that Ajax had, so his personal keylogger could capture it. After the doors reopened, Reed began to step out. He flung the code to one of the door guards so they could control the systems in his absence. “Hold your post, soldier.”

“Aye, captain.”

“And about Vasily...”

“We’re with you, sir,” the other guard insisted. “You did what you had to. Now go take engineering so we can save our friends.”

“For Proxima Doma,” the first guard said.

“For Proxima Doma!” they chanted in unison. “For Proxima Doma! For Proxima Doma!” Their voices trailed off as Reed was jogging away.

He could hear the firefight as he was coming up on the engineering section. He saw movement in the corner of his eye, so he raised his gun once more, but found it to be a couple of friendlies. It apparently didn’t matter whether he had fired, though. Why did Aletha not tell him about that feature? He held his finger to his lips, and gestured for them to step into that hallway closet, and keep a lookout for tangentials. Reed, meanwhile, went on to enter the fray. “Everyone stop firing!” he cried.

To his surprise, they did all stop.

“If I know statistics—and I know statistics—a great number of you don’t agree with the government’s plan to abandon our neighbors on Proxima Doma! You have two choices, whether you agree or not! You can lay down your arms, and help us execute the rescue mission, or you can lay down your arms, and stay behind! But you’re not winning this! We have the bridge, we have elevator control, and we have everything else! We even have the main cafeteria! This platform is not staying in orbit over Bungula!”

“We will not be party to a mutiny!” someone said. She stepped out from behind a power relay block. “I know who you are, Executor Ellis! Stolen valor is a serious offense, and I do not recognize your authority! Hell, I don’t even see you as an executor anymore. The way I see it, you’re just a criminal!”

“We’re sorry to hear that!” Shasta’s voice said behind Reed. He turned to see her walking into the room very slowly and carefully. She was holding some kind of scary glowing device. It was pulsing with energy, and hurting Reed’s ears a little. He had to move away from it. Everyone else seemed to be feeling the same thing. “Back up! Back up!” She ordered as some tried to inch closer, likely hoping to shut whatever this thing was off. “This is called a blueshift bomb! You walk towards it, it starts rupturing your eardrums! You touch it, it goes off! Trust me, you don’t want it to go off!”

Reed wanted to ask her what the hell she was doing, but he couldn’t get close enough to whisper, and they needed to maintain a united front.

Shasta didn’t walk too far into the room before stopping and setting it down on the floor. “I’m obviously protected against its effects, but no one else is! You should know that it’s highly sensitive to microwave radiation! You don’t even have to fire in its direction to set it off, so unless you wanna die, you’ll put your guns on the floor! It doesn’t care if you’re consciousness is streaming, or if it isn’t! It’s not that smart! It is simply reactive! I probably shouldn’t even be raising my voice! Everyone is going to slowly walk around it, careful not to walk towards it, and come out of the room with your hands up!”

The tangentials reluctantly complied, leaving their guns behind, and agreeing to be cuffed and patted down in the corridor. The commandeerers were allowed to keep their guns, of course, but they had to be holstered for safety. The air was tense, and the process was slow, but things were moving forward. They would clear out engineering, and then Shasta would deactivate the bomb so they could place their own people at the workstations, and finally get moving along.

“Screw this!” one of the tangentials suddenly said just before he could make it over the threshold. “I’m streaming.” He took a few sideways leaps towards the bomb before taking one final jump, and diving on top of it.

Someone thought quickly and slammed their hand against the emergency bulkhead button. Shasta thought just as quickly when she pushed Reed through those doors just in time for him to make it through before the doors shut, allowing herself to be trapped inside. The bomb went off with a painful screeching sound, and pounded dents into the inside of the bulkhead. It was even more powerful than he had guessed. In a few seconds, it was over. Shasta was right, you would not want to be in there when that happened. He was angry that she was in there, and that the man who did it to her was just as far away as she was now, tucked away safely in his little respawn chamber.

“Felaine?” Reed asked, looking over at one of his people.

Felaine wasn’t the one who brought the bomb in here, but she was a demolitions expert, so she definitely knew how a blueshift bomb worked. “All of those substrates are dead. Most of the machinery has been destroyed or disabled. The room was flooded with a ton of deadly radiation. We’re not getting back in there anytime soon.”

“Options?”

“There’s an auxiliary engineering section on the port side,” one of the tangential hostages said. “It’s not as robust, but it will get you moving.”

“Don’t help them!” one of the other tangentials urged.

“This is what helping gets you,” Reed countered. He took his knife back out, and cut the engineer’s cuffs. He looked at the freeman. “Take my people to it, and spool up the fusion torches to prepare to escape orbit. I want to leave as soon as the VIPs are out of the atmosphere. We don’t have time for them to get all the way on board.”

“These people?” one of his commandeerers asked.

“Take ‘em to hock,” Reed ordered. He went off to return to the bridge.

He didn’t get very far before someone called for him on comms. “Captain, there’s a problem with the elevator.”

“What problem is that?” he asked.

“News has traveled, one of the VIPs activated the emergency brakes. I physically cannot restart it from here.”

“Can they go back down?” Reed asked.

“If they reengage the motor, I’ll be able to resume control. All they can do is hold and wait, which I think they’re doing so someone can rescue them.”

“We need those VIPs,” Reed reminded everyone. He took a moment to think as he continued walking. “What is the pod’s current altitude, and can we blow the bolts below it and still make it out of the atmosphere?”

“It’s 83 kilometers over the surface,” the elevator tech explained. “Our Plan B set it at 121 so we could blow the 120 bolts. I’m not happy about it, but it’s technically possible right now. I would be happier at 108 kay-em, so I suppose we’re on Plan D at this point.”

“Sir, I’m seeing a shuttle heading for the elevator,” one of his new bridge crewmembers reported once he had returned. “They’ll reach it in under thirty minutes.”

“Blow it,” Reed ordered. “We’ll blow the 80 bolts. We’ll have to figure out how to drag them out from where they are. Just wait for my cue.” He massaged his temples, noticing that his people were all watching. “We always knew that it wasn’t gonna be easy, right? I didn’t know my best friend would sacrifice herself to save me from a blueshift bomb, and get stuck off-site, but we play the cards we’re dealt, and move on.”

“Sir,” the Tangent’s newest communications officer began. “I assume you would like to speak with the VIPs? Ready on your orders.”

“I need you to block all signals from anyone but me.”

“Already done.”

“Open the channel.” Reed paused for a moment. “Passengers on the maiden lift of the Tangent space elevator, my name is Captain Jean Tiberius Adama. We have retaken control of most of the platform, but there are still some systems in enemy hands. Please secure your persons in your seats, and strap all the way in. Your vertical transportation specialist will assist you if needed. You have thirty seconds. This is for your safety. Thank you.” He motioned for her to cut the link.

There was an awkward silence while they waited for the tethers to pop. “Was that a reference, sir?” a new crewmember asked.

“A few references,” he answered. “I needed them to feel safe, but not so safe that they dismissed my orders, and I didn’t want to impersonate a real officer.”

“Tethers are blown sir,” the elevator tech updated.

“Thank you, Sartore. Now that they’re free, start reeling them in. Who cares about the pod brakes?” He took one beat. “Aux engineering, status of the fusion drives.”

“Magnetic containment fields are at 72%.”

“All right, keep going,” Reed began. “I’ll need updates on the other sections. Let’s start with—”

Alarms started to blare. “Sir!” the sensor officer screamed. “I’m detecting a kinetic drone headed right for our starboard fusion torch!”

“How long?” Reed asked.

“Three seconds!”

Before anyone could do anything, there was a massive explosion, and the whole platform lurched. Artificial gravity was disabled, sending everyone on the bridge careening into the portside hull. “We have three more torches!” Reed cried. “They’re gonna blow them too! Burn ‘em! Burn the other three!”

“I can’t get back to propulsion!”

“I got it!” Reed looked over to see Shasta—alive and well—floating towards the propulsion station. She tapped on the console.

This would save their lives. The torches themselves would vaporize the drones, or at the very least, alter their orbital pattern enough so that any other drones would face navigational issues. In the immediate term, however, they were worse off than they were before. Since the magnetic containment field wasn’t fully operational, this was a dirty burn. That was actually beneficial to them. Since the plasma was unfocused, the chances that it would meet the drone went up. But with only three of the four torches burning, the platform was out of balance, and out of control. Even though the burn only lasted a fraction of a second, that was enough to throw them off. They were now relentlessly spinning in a decaying orbit, well on their way to crashing down on the surface of the planet.

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Tangent Point: Lift a Hand to Help (Part I)

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Executor Reed Ellis stood in the back of the room, not afforded a seat. He was of too low a station to be officially part of the discussion. That was not going to stop him from participating, however, whether they liked it or not. He was rolling his eyes as they put forth all of these pointless suggestions for how they could help. They could drop down food and other supplies. They could spearhead cleaning up the orbital debris. All of that was well and good, and they should absolutely do that, but their neighbor’s planet was dying. They didn’t need help on the ground, they needed help getting off of it. The rocket equation was tyrannical. It would be prohibitively expensive to send them rockets, and then attempt to launch the refugees over and over again until they were all up. There was a reason people didn’t really do that anymore. There was a reason Earthans invented space elevators, and why they had become the most common launch method in the stellar neighborhood.

He couldn’t take it anymore. “Enough!”

“Executor Ellis!” The Mediator spat his name out like it was a bad taste in his mouth. “You will wait to be called upon. We recognize that you have been in close contact with the Proxima Domanians, but we all have the data. We all know what they need.”

“Do you?” Reed questioned. He stepped forwards. A security officer took a step too in reaction. “Really, son? Don’t forget your rank.” He kept walking forwards, aware that the officer was still tensed up, and would not hesitate to take him down to protect the diplomats. “We have to get our friends off that world, and we have to go now, because it is going to take weeks just to get there.”

The Mediator stood now. “It is not a viable option. The equator is fully liquefacted now, and no space elevator is designed to operate at a pole.”

Reed shook his head. “Just because it wasn’t designed to work that way, doesn’t mean it can’t do it. The Tangent can handle it. We’re gonna have to keep the fusion torch array affixed to it just to traverse the distance anyway. If you feed them isotopes, the platform will maintain station. It won’t have to do it forever. My people have been running the numbers. With the proper coordination, we can evacuate one pole in only—”

“Executor Ellis!” The Mediator shouted again. “We have read your proposal. The decision has been made. The Tangent will remain where it is, the christening will commence tomorrow, on schedule, and we will provide aid to the Domanians in the best way that we are capable. You were invited to this forum as a courtesy, but you do not have the right to be here. One more outburst from you, and you’re gone.”

Reed stared at him as he stared back. He would actually prefer to leave. This was the committee’s final chance to do the right thing, and it was clear that they were not going to. He would have to take matters into his own hands, so being in this room had become a distraction now. He might as well go big. “You son of a bitch, you can’t just abandon these people!” He lunged—and not even that far—but still, the security officer straight up shot him in the head. What an asshole. Talk about overkill.

Reed woke up in his backup substrate feeling inconvenienced and annoyed, but otherwise all right. His best friend and assistant, Shasta Clifford was there, looking impatient and panicked. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

“They put a hold on your respawn,” she began to explain. “They thought you might do something during the ceremony, so they sentenced you to one week deferred reinstantiation.”

Reed flew out of his pod. “It is illegal to make such a sentence in absentia.”

“They’ve gone crazy,” Shasta decided.

“So we’ve missed our window,” he assumed.

She shook her head. “No. I figured, if we were going to stage a mutiny, breaking someone out of blackout hock would be the least illegal thing we did. The ceremony is starting soon, if it hasn’t already.”

He shook his head now. “There’s no time. I need to talk to our people. We need to make plans.”

“Everyone is already in place,” she assured him. “They know the plan. We’ve been talking, and we all understand what’s at stake, and what you need from us. We’re ready to go, Executor. We just need to get you on that bridge.”

“There’s no time to make it. I can’t get up to the Tangent with enough time to execute the plan. I would have to be on the maiden lift, and there’s no way security is letting me through if I’m meant to be in the buffer.”

Shasta smirked. “You think you’re on Bungula right now?” She opened the door. On the other side of the hallway was a viewport showing outer space. “We’re not even that far from our destination, in super-synchronous orbit with the Tangent. A shuttle is waiting for you to make the intercept.”

If they were in super-synchronous orbit with the Tangent, it meant that Shasta had activated the terminal in a scrapper, which was made to wander around in a graveyard orbit, reclaiming plausibly reusable components from dead satellites. He only put an extra body up here in case he ever needed to bug out from Bungula, or even Rigil Kentaurus entirely. “This is, like, my eleventh back-up terminal.”

“And the one that made the most sense, given our constraints,” Shasta said. “Still, we gotta get going.”

“Okay.” He started to bounce on the balls of his feet. “I just need to do my acclimation exercises.” He stretched, and cracked his knuckles and neck. It was proving to be a little difficult, so he checked the mirror. He massaged his chin and cheeks. “There was something wrong with the stasis field. This body is agèd.”

She was waiting for him impatiently. “It makes you look distinguished and regal, and maybe anyone who knows you’re not supposed to be there won’t recognize you. Now let’s go!”

They walked briskly down the corridor. Reed occasionally tipped over, and had to catch himself on the wall, but he didn’t stop. There was no one else here because material salvage was a fully automated task. At the end of their journey, they did meet a bearded man, who reached out. “Hello, I’m Trilby, and I’ll be your pilot today.”

Reed looked uncomfortably at Shasta.

“Oh, don’t you worry, sir,” Trilby went on. “I have no allegiances, and I am no friend to the Bungulan government. I don’t care what you’re doing, and will never have any reason to rat you out. I just push the autopilot button and keep my head down.”

“We’re only trusting him to get us there,” Shasta explained to Reed.

Trilby picked up on Reed’s sustained trepidation. “Look, if you wanna dock with the planet’s newest space elevator platform without being captured on the sensors, you’re gonna need me. I know how to spoof our signature so we just look like a hull maintenance drone coming in for a charge.” He stepped to the side so they could see into the shuttle. “That’s why this thing is so small. It only fits two, so I hope there’s no sexual tension between you two, because it’s gonna be a tight squeeze.”

There wasn’t, which was actually what made it so awkward. Reed saw Shasta like a daughter, and she saw him as a father figure. It was weird to have her sitting on his lap, but it only took an hour, so they survived it. “Where are you going to go now?” Reed asked Trilby once they were in the maintenance bay, and out of the shuttle.

“I actually do need to charge up to make it to my next run, so I’m gonna sip some power from this very spot.”

Reed was still nervous to trust someone who wasn’t already a part of the plan, but this guy needed to understand why he couldn’t hang around too long. “You need to go now. This station isn’t staying where it is. That’s...sort of the point.”

Trilby winked, clicked his tongue, and pointed finger guns at Reed. “Gotcha. I’ll be gone before you know it. Oh, one more thing,” he added as he was reaching to the other side of his seat. “I was told to hand you this.”

It was a standard operational uniform, except there was something different about it. The signifiers were all wrong. “No, this isn’t mine. I’m only an Exec—”

“That’s what my ground contact gave me.” He pushed the button to make the hatch close. “Have fun with your insurrection, or whatever...Captain!” the hatch closed.

“Was this your idea?” Reed asked Shasta.

“No,” she replied, “but I agree with it. The Tangent must be led by a captain.”

“You can’t just declare a promotion, Shasta.”

“Frock that, of course you can. There’s historical precedent. It’s called a brevet.”

He was shaking his head, very uncomfortable with this.

“I was wrong, what I said before,” Shasta began. “Breaking you out of blackout hock isn’t the least illegal thing we’re doing today. This uniform violation is. So put it on, get to your station, and let’s do this thing! For Proxima Doma!”

He sighed, and echoed, “for Proxima Doma.” They had only been planning this takeover for about a week, but that phrase had sort of become their group chant. And that was really what this was all about. They had an obligation to rescue their neighbors, and if that meant masquerading as someone with a higher rank, then that was what it took. He was going to be court martialed either way. What was one more charge? He dressed himself in his new uniform, and they headed out.

They didn’t go straight to the bridge. They had to make one stop first. This was the main armory of the platform, but it was not busy at all. War was a thing of the past. They maintained a military and ranking system for efficient organization and coordination. They kept it for the structure. But people did not walk around with guns anymore. The integrated multipurpose suits that most people wore regularly were not designed with weapons. In fact if you wanted to carry one, it had to include a special utility adapter since the IMS didn’t even come with holsters. Captains often didn’t wear IMS units. It wasn’t required not to, but many wanted to give the impression of fearlessness and steadfastness. They would go down with the ship, if it came to that. Though, to be fair, their minds were probably streaming to a safe back-up anyway, so it didn’t matter. The advantage it gave Reed today was that it was easier to conceal a weapon within the loose fabric of traditional clothing.

The weapons officer was on their side, and unlike Trilby, Reed could personally vouch for her. She removed the gun from its holster, and presented it to him. She wasn’t being patronizing. He hadn’t ever seen this model before, and while he passed the requisite marksmanship tests just fine, he wasn’t very experienced in firearms. “This is an autophasing maser gun. You can toggle it between stun and kill, but that is not recommended, and if you do that, it will be logged. Even if you don’t actually fire the weapon, simply switching on manual mode will send a report to the relevant ranking officials, which I guess is you now.” She eyed his new signifiers.

Reed looked down at himself. “These are just temporary.”

“Right.” She went on, “when autophasing is active, it will assess a target, and determine their substrate status. If the individual has a quantum consciousness backup stream, it will gladly just kill them.”

“I experienced that yesterday,” Reed said.

“Yes, we remember. To be blunt, sir, that was foolish. It made our infiltration much harder.”

“Aletha, know your place,” Shasta scolded.

“No, it’s fine, I want honesty,” Reed contended. He turned back to Aletha. “I regret it. I was just trying to get out of that room, and dying felt like the fastest way.”

Aletha nodded. “If the individual is not streaming, it will automatically switch the setting to stun mode. That’s why manual mode is not recommended, because you don’t know whether the person you’re targeting will come back or not. Now, they are developing eyewear that will show you the substrate data, so you can make an informed decision on the fly, but they are having syncing issues since it is very possible to point the gun at one target, and be looking at another.”

“Okay,” Reed said. “Just so I can be completely careful, does it have a decoherence setting?” Decoherence weapons were mostly illegal mostly everywhere. If your consciousness was streaming to a back-up, or multiple back-ups, decoherence would be able to disrupt those signals, and prevent reinstantiation, possibly even permanently. In a civilization with ubiquitous and fairly easy mind uploading, this was a way to bring back the true death. A sophisticated enough decoherence transmitter could destroy all signals and all back-ups.

Aletha stared at him blankly. “This doesn’t have that feature. I do have access to weapons that do. It would require executive clearance, but I could probably subvert that.”

“No. I’m asking because I don’t want it, not because I do,” he clarified. “I wouldn’t want to do it accidentally.”

“That’s not a concern,” Aletha promised. She reholstered the gun, and handed it to him. She handed another to Shasta. “The rest of our people are armed with their own already. When you leave, I will be locking this room down so no one else can arm up.” She gestured to the lockers behind her. “So if you see anything else you like, you’ll need to check it out now.”

Reed scanned the lockers for anything that might be of use to their cause, and would not be unethical to employ. “I think we’re set. Thank you for this, Aletha. It will not make your life easier.”

“For Proxima Doma,” Aletha declared.

“For Proxima Doma,” he echoed again.

“I’m going to use the range in the back for target practice,” Shasta told him as he was leaving. “I shouldn’t join you on the bridge anyway. I would just make you more recognizable.”

“Very well, Shasta. I’ll see you on the other side.” He left.

When Reed stepped onto the bridge, he found himself in good company. While the Tangent did have its own captain, a lot of people here were captains themselves, visiting from their respective vessels, here to celebrate the accomplishment. He blended right in, and no one was paying much attention to who he was, or whether he belonged there. The Head Architect of the platform was on a little circular stage that likely wasn’t usually there, though Reed didn’t know much about it. The Tangent was of a unique design, so the general shape of the bridge was already different than what he was used to. The architect was going through their spiel, talking about how this was a passion project of theirs, and how proud they were to see it finally come to fruition. The hologram next to them was showing the interior feed of the elevator pod, where all of the diplomats and dignitaries were sitting for the first trip. Some were gazing out the window. Others were chatting with each other inaudibly. A few seemed to be busy conducting business.

The trip was going to take a while. They were traveling at express speeds, but still needed to cross tens of thousands of kilometers, so it was never going to be instantaneous. Reed consulted his watch. They were waiting to begin the takeover until after the pod passed out of the planet’s atmosphere. If all went according to plan, they would sever the tethers just under the pod, and let them drift down to the surface. The pod, meanwhile, would be stuck with the Tangent, and when they commandeered the platform, all of those very important people could serve as hostages. It wasn’t going to be pretty or nice, but he wasn’t going to hurt anyone; not permanently, anyway. He just needed the authorities to think that he would, so they wouldn’t blow them out of the sky.

“Boss,” came the whispering voice of one of his compatriots through his earpiece. “Clear your throat if you can hear me, but you are in mixed company.”

Reed cleared his throat.

“There is a problem in engineering. I’m hiding behind a coolant tank, but the others have been caught. I’m blocking all outgoing transmissions except for mine, but they are about to send someone out of range, and call for help. What do we do?” This was too early. They weren’t ready yet. That elevator pod absolutely had to come with them. There were some rather important people here already, but the ceremonial travelers were vital to counteract the fact that they were slower than everyone else. If a Teaguardian got in the fight, without leverage, it would be over in seconds.

Reed quietly separated himself, and found a humming auxiliary power monitoring station to sort of dampen his voice. “Lift control, are you in position?” He heard a long beep, a short beep, another long beep, and another short beep. That meant yes. “Okay,” Reed replied. “Your job has become more important than ever. Take control. Take it now. Don’t let that pod stop or reverse. We have to move up the timetable, so—”

“Hey!” someone shouted on the bridge. “Hey, he’s not supposed to be here! Yeah, you, Ellis! You’re not a captain!”

“Everyone execute your directives!” Reed ordered hurriedly. “Go now! Go! Take the platform!”

The fight began.

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