Naero half-grinned. “Keep that in mind.
I wouldn’t put it past her...or be able to stop her.”
“
She really doesn’t like me.”
“Ellis,
I’m not sure I like you. Don’t tell me that the older generations of your people who went through the wars are any different? But we and our people don’t have to remain enemies forever. Maybe we can find a way to help each other.”
Ellis forced a smile
. “I suppose so, especially since I find myself so frequently surrounded by Spacers. Perhaps I need a few friends among them to help me hang onto my liver and other internals.”
“
A wise choice,” she said. “Do as they say and you guys’ll be all right.”
Irith, t
he Spacer Intel leftenant assigned to them, grilled Naero and Gallan for what seemed like several eternal hours.
They went over everything in as much detail as they could, many times over.
Toward the end, both Naero and Gallan drooped and yawned. They hadn’t been given anything to eat or drink, or even allowed to go to the bathroom.
Naero
’s kidneys felt about to pop. At least she’d put clean togs on beforehand.
“Left
enant,” Aunt Sleak finally said. “I think that’s about all you’re going to get right now, until the lab tests get underway tomorrow. The new equipment is still being set up. Give my people here a breather. They need to take care of their own business and get some chow and rest.”
“
Very well,” Irith said.
“Begin
briefing them on their escape personas. You’ll need to move quickly after the testing period ends. Get out of Corps Space. Our forces will assist you along the way.”
“
Any news on mounting tensions between Corps and Spacers?”
“
Not yet, Sleak. They fluctuate everywhere. Serious incidents continue to increase. The Corps slant everything in their media to make it look like Spacers are trying to incite another war.”
“Has any
one declared yet?”
“
If they do, every Spacer in Corps space becomes a target. It’ll be bad, just like the last Spacer Wars. We’ll lose a lot of vulnerable people and merchant fleets and ships initially.”
“This is insane,”
Naero said. She worried about her friends, her family.
“War always is,”
the leftenant said. “I was a cadet pilot in the last Spacer War, barely old enough. Things got very crazy. But if the Corps think we’ve gained a potential tek advantage greater than what we have, they might just think it prudent to attack first and wipe us out before we can apply it.”
“
That’s really insane,” Naero said.
“
Don’t expect that reality to change any time soon,” Aunt Sleak told her. “Maybe never. People, let’s go. We’ve been dismissed. Spacer Intel will keep poring over what you’ve given them and pick the bones clean.”
After quick stops at their quarters, they went to the nearest mess hall.
Naero and Gallan ate and ate until they might burst.
Even though she couldn
’t eat another bite, the smell of food all around still tantalized her.
“
So, where’s the fleet?” Naero asked.
Aunt Sleak
’s face darkened. “Still making their rounds, far as I know. Wasn’t safe for Jan and me to stay with them. Sold the fleet to Zalvano for a cred. It’s all legal. He’ll carry on until we can all make it out of here and link up again.”
“Aunt Sleak,” Naero said. “I don’t want my friends treated like prisoners.”
“I’ll do what I can. Tutors will work with your friends–even the Matayan.”
Another glaring look. Aunt Sleak handed chips to Naero and Gallan. “
These data files have the uploaded dossiers on your guises that you’ll use to escape. Study and learn them carefully over the next few days.”
“So, what’s the plan?” Naero asked
.
“We’ll try to slip out of Corps S
pace as independents,” Aunt Sleak said. “To do that, we’ll take a long slow loop through the Corps, doing our business along the way. They’ll expect us to make a hell-bent run for Free Space. They’re stopping every runner who doesn’t pause to do business. That would just bring suspicion down on us.”
“
Great,” Jan said. “Maybe we can at least make some profits along the way. I know of several hot spots that we could deal with. That full-blown miner revolt continues to explode across multiple sectors. The revolt leader has a powerful psyon working for him–”
“
We might have to go through a few of those hot spots, but we won’t take any chances,” Aunt Sleak said. “No risky deals, Jan. This all might be a big game to you, but these players are in earnest. The Corps play for keeps. I don’t want a hothead like you blowing our cover. I’ll shoot you myself before I let that happen. Copy?”
Jan
’s eyes went wide. “Got it,” he said.
“
And Naero, I want you to stay close to me and follow my lead, got that? No more running off on your own either. That headstrong crap didn’t work for your mother, and it will get you killed too. You follow orders. Whatever I say.”
“
I will.”
Naero stroke the Nytex on
her hips.
“
This Kexxian Data Matrix is too important to our people,” Aunt Sleak said. “If the Corps get it, in a few decades they’ll be able to take us out. I can’t emphasize this enough. We have to keep it from them, at all costs–even our own lives.”
“We’re not
stupid,” Gallan said. “I think we understand that, Captain.”
“
You’d better. We’ll remain here just long enough for Intel to conduct whatever tests and bio-scans on Jan and Naero that they need to. After that, we’ll head out. You’ll all undergo intense training in weapons and espionage with Intel each day.
“
Sleep when you can. You’ll need it.”
31
Spacer Intel began an intense battery of tests and
full bioscans on Naero and Jan, starting that night when they slept, in the lab, and for eight to ten hours each day thereafter.
When they left the lab each morning, Spacer
Intel ran them ragged with training, until they staggered back to the lab to get hooked up again for the next night.
The testing only occasionally got painful. Headaches were common.
But usually the tests lapsed into in long, drawn-out periods where they needed to lie completely still. For hours. At times the medteks strapped them down to keep them from moving.
An entire platoon of over forty Intel specialists, including five Cumi of various ages, pored and prodded and picked over them.
It bothered Naero the most that the Intel people were incredibly tight-lipped and wouldn’t tell her or Jan very much. They barely whispered to each other around them, and went off into adjoining rooms for heated arguments and debates.
On more than one occasion, they evacuated the lab in organized panic, terrified at some potential defensive reaction from the Kexxian Matrix itself.
Even when she checked with Om, neither she nor he could figure out what was going on.
Naero recalled the vids of the so called “Kexxian Plague” on Tora-3.
What other defenses did the Kexxian Matrix have? The Intel teks spoke about the data in hushed tones only a few times, like it was some living, breathing thing that might possess multiple intellects and a will of its own.
Om was just one case in point to Naero’s mind. She wasn’t sure that she should still keep him secret.
Intel fled the lab in such a hurry once that she and Jan were left behind, still secured and strapped down in their modified medbeds.
Naero constantly spotted the Spacer Intel Chief–the one her aunt called Klyne. Tall, late forties, short, sandy brown hair, piercing black eyes. Klyne moved like a fighter. She had yet to speak with him directly, but he kept watch over everything on board
The Alamo
it seemed.
What info Jan and she did get often came to them
secondhand from Aunt Sleak, and Naero wasn’t even sure that their aunt told them everything.
They endured this madness for over a week, and still it dragged on.
During that same period, Naero’s delusions gave her four extra delusional arms that waved around, trying to break through and grasp and handle things. It became very distracting.
By the end of the week, thankfully, the extra limbs with a mind of their own went away.
Then the following morning, Naero woke up with about a dozen illusionary tentacles or tendrils of some kind, this time protruding from her back.
Like having a squid emerging from her torso.
How wonderful.
Naero did her best to ignore them, thankful time and time again that no one else could sense her private madness.
She shuddered to think sometimes what would happen if Om did break free, and actually used some of the Kexxian Data Matrix’s defensive capabilities.
From what Om told her, they were–in fact–nearly without limits. Naero spent a lot of time arguing with him about not hurting or destroying her and her friends in his zeal to protect their secrets.
For the others, all of them except Ellis sharpened their weapons training in the Intel War Rooms. The heavily shielded battle training facilities allowed them to practice live fire with most of the small arms available throughout the Corps and the known systems.
The array of weapons
–dizzying.
To everyone
’s surprise, Tarim quickly took to the instruction and rapidly became an amazing marksman, although at first he was better with pistols than rifles.
Naero watched him
as he advanced, nailing target after target, dead on–some at extreme, simulated ranges of three and four kilometers with advanced targeting optics.
“Impressive,” she told him. “
Tarim, you’re a natural sharpshooter.”
“Thanks.
But I still have trouble with combat shooting. If I can take my time in a low stress situation, I almost never miss. Yet in combat simulation, I still get too excited, and my hit ratio drops way down.”
Naero hugged him. “You’re a hard worker. You’ll get better.”
He blushed and beamed at her approval.
He came
off the firing line the next day with a near perfect combat score.
He ran in to tell
Naero and Gallan where they cleaned and serviced their weapons for that day.
“
Finally, I found something I can do right,” he said. “I’m improving every day, according to the Intel instructors.”
Naero patted him on the back
. “Congrats, Tarim. They say with continued training, they could make a sniper out of you. Could you handle that?”
“
I think so. There’s so many things I’d like to do, guys.”
“
Have you found a particular field you’d like to pursue?” Gallan asked. They knew the lander studied hard to find his way.
“
I like geology and archeology a lot. I think I might study them once this is all over. I have to thank you and your people for all these blessings, guys. It would have never been possible for me to learn any of this stuff, trapped where I was.”
“
You’ll do well,” Naero said.
Slo
wly but surely, Tarim was making the transition from slave to real person–even a budding warrior and intellectual.
Naero
put her weapons back onto the return cart and checked them in. Tarim finished with his. She helped him put them away.
“C’mon,” Gallan
said. “We’re late for practice with the powered armor simulators and unit shield devices. Walk over with us, Tarim. We’ll catch up with Jan and the others.”
Tarim se
emed very pleased to be with them. Too eager to be around Naero. His gaze followed her everywhere with an intense look of longing.
They were friends
and comrades now, but not anything else, at least in Naero’s mind.
Gallan was right. Tarim had it pretty bad for her. And that made it tough. She didn’t want to hurt him.
She needed to find the right time and the right way to settle the romance issue with him once and for all.
She
just wasn’t sure how to do it yet.
While Ellis remained a completely different problem on the other end of the spectrum.
She needed to get past that, too. And deal with Om’s growing intellect and curiosity, and the Kexxian Data Matrix, and their escape, and the Corps.
Sometimes she felt certain her head was going to explode.
But part of her still rebelled and didn’t want to do anything but go somewhere and goof off.
She knew that wasn’t right.
Their armor and shielding session ended. Naero started back toward her quarters, soaked with sweat and exhausted, for a relaxing mist shower and some badly needed alone time.
Is your battle training over? Most interesting. Can we talk now?
An intense groan escaped her; Naero hung her head. Om was pretty good about being quiet for long periods of time when they were needed, but the dam had to break sooner or later.
Just let me get back to my quarters, Om. Then we can chat.
I think I’m close to understanding why I am cut off from our defensive functions and abilities.
Oh, that’s…great Om.
With Om glued to her mind, she was never quite alone. Although he couldn’t read her mind entirely, or take control of her body. At least, not yet.
Perhaps she should tell someone about Om before anything dicey happened. But who? Who could she go to?
Naero rubbed her palms down the sides of her hips and outer thighs to relax, relishing the comforting texture of Nytex.
She wore her togs
everywhere outside of the lab. To practice and even to bed now at times.
After her abduction ordeal
s, she felt strangely naked and vulnerable out of Nytex. As if someone had peeled her skin off her like a Garendian purple bananya.
Jan
agreed with her. They also remained constantly ravenous and daydreamed about food. Their lab torment and the new training schedules kept them hungry.
At lunch, Naero and Jan
usually got the chance to speak privately with Aunt Sleak about the tests and their situation for a few minutes.
At the end of that week, Aunt Sleak presented
them with new handcomps and the special wristcoms Intel privately warned them about.
Naero shuddered a little
, locking the new wristcom on. Jan put his on, seeming not to care.
“
So what’s the holdup?” Naero said. “Why don’t they just collect the info off me and Jan and wipe it? Then it’s Intel’s problem, and not ours anymore. At least, not for a while.”
Aunt Sleak shook her head
. “It’s all more complex than you two could possibly imagine, Naero. Intel has brought in their finest minds. But the Kexx were a highly advanced civilization, far beyond our current capabilities.”
“Baeven said we had all the clues now to figure it out,” Naero said. “We turned all the data and equipment specs over to Intel, just like he told us.”
“We’re still starting on the bottom steps of a huge flight of stairs,” Aunt Sleak said. “The Kexx knew what they were doing; we don’t. They used this tek for millions of years. We’re just discovering it. It’s only been a few days. You need to be patient.”
“We are,” Jan almost shouted.
Naero put a hand on his arm; then he took a breath. “But it’s tough when they won’t tell us anything,” he said.
“Let me assure you, they’ve made good progress this week,” Aunt Sleak told them. “They’ve bypassed most of the Matrix’s security, and are dealing with the core data itself. But t
o compound the problem, it appears that half of the data matrix is imprinted on your DNA, Naero. The other half on Jan’s. An added layer of protection and complexity from your parents no doubt. You can thank them for that.”
Naero sighed and shook her head. “I can see how that could affect the deciphering.”
“You got that right,” Aunt Sleak said. “Each half by itself is almost completely useless. They’ve broken it down enough to discover that clear fact. They’ve managed to record both halves in bulk, but the complex security and encryption could take centuries to break down and then match up with the correct pieces from the other part.”
“Like trying to perfectly re-assemble two halves of a mountain of glass,” Jan noted, “with both halves blasted to bits.”
“So, you’re saying Jan and I are stuck with this stuff inside us for a while? This is a nightmare.”
“
Afraid so. With the sequencing, it’s easier to break off matching chunks, align their algorithms and parameters like two halves of the most intricate puzzle you can imagine–then decipher them as a whole. They’re also searching for some kind of index which they say is vital to coordinating the alignment of the pieces. So that they can best select which sections to upload and match first.”
“
And they still need us for all that?” Jan said.
“
Not entirely, but when the teks make a mistake, defensive layered sub-routines within the Kexxian Matrix self-destroy key sections of the partitions. Our teks are going crazy trying to comprehend the glimpses of what they’ve seen in the Kexxian Matrix so far. Even crazier at what they might have already lost. Each day, they make fresh copies from you two, and make fewer and fewer mistakes. Like starting over and over again.”
“
Then take DNA samples,” Jan said. “Take all they want–bone marrow’s usually a good choice. Tell them to take what they need and wipe this stuff out of us. I don’t want to be trapped in a lab or on the run for the rest of my life.”
Jan
impressed Naero. He must have done his homework. Bio-genetics weren’t usually his strong suit.
“No one wants to get the two of you out of here and somewhere secure more than Intel,” Aunt Sleak added. “But the Tek side of all this craziness still grows
exponentially more complex each second. To make matters even worse, there’s also a dead switch on the Kexxian Data Matrix. Either of you die, and poof! The Matrix dissolves, completely destroyed in an instant. It doesn’t stay viable outside of your bodies or without the other half. Not even bio-gen samples. Even those transplanted into cloned regenerative tissues activate the switch and destroy the Matrix, the instant they get removed from the original. Intel has tried everything. It’s maddening.”
“
But like you said, they do have several bulk data copies they’ve made from us directly, right?” Jan asked.
“
Right, but every time they make a mistake, they have to start over from the beginning, Aunt Sleak said. “Five of the eight copies are already riddled with mistakes and errors. Entire sections self-deleted with no way to retrieve them. To decode this much material through trial and error might take decades, even centuries, and by then the info obtained may or may not be so useful.”