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“Look, we need to talk,” Kira says to me, then nods his head toward the door.
Ruka and Viro are distracting Raffa by showing him the dashboard, so I agree to step out with the hacker.
“Something wrong?”
“Could be. We have reports from Sector 5 that the Deadhead’s engineer is doing well with getting the planetary defense up and running, and the majority of the Azza’s battleships were forced to remain in their positions to prevent an Alliance breach on their border fence. There are a number of ships being re-routed toward Kar’Kal to resist our efforts, but we should be able to hold them off.”
Our plan to land safely on a fully secured Kar’Kal has begun. The sting of not being there is still fresh, but the more important thing is that it’s happening, and nothing has gone wrong just yet. Except I’m waiting for the bad news I see in Kira’s eyes.
“There are other reports, however.” His expression is grim. “That the Azza are considering breaking the organic code.”
I grit my teeth. “They wouldn’t.”
“I’m liable to agree with you. They’re in a precarious position to be pushing the boundaries of the neutral governments that could swing the war out of their favor with one offensive.”
The ‘organic code’ refers to the longstanding agreement between all Intergalactic Union nations to never engage in warfare using robotic soldiers or AI-powered ships and drones. Drones and unmanned ships must be piloted by a remote lifeform, even if that controller is managing a hundred drones at once. The ugly conflicts that sparked that pact long pre-date the beginning of the Sector 5 Wars. Even the Azza would not invite the mutually assured destruction that comes along with breaking the agreement. Every Intergalactic Union member would be called to join the war effort, not to mention it would invite the wrath of whatever drone armies the Alliance no doubt has stocked up for such an occasion.
“There are rumblings that a shipment of black-market kill-bots purchased from the Rathe System will be landed on Kar’Kal to seek and destroy the team on the ground before they can reengage the planetary defense system. The plans to send them down might have already been in motion, a failsafe to take control of the planet if they were unable to make anything useful from those experimentations you reported on.”
The experimentation that led to my own brother’s imprisonment.
I curse. Their last resort to outsmart Kar’Kal’s lava flows was to break the organic code and get the planetary defense manned by AI? Even the Azza should know that plan could lead to catastrophic results.
The Zaledian model kill-bots are typically seen used as bodyguards, house servants, and sex workers nowadays, if not powered down and abandoned to scrap yards completely. The legal resale market for them is healthy, due to engineers like Kira. He apparently re-worked Captain Rossa’s Zaledian kill-bot with such skill that it qualifies as sentient and received official Rathe System citizenship.
“The thing is… The shipment’s next fuel stop location was painfully easy to come by. I have a feeling the whole message is a setup.”
I nod. It wouldn’t be the first time such traps were set for either Mak or myself. For him, the bait is often some diplomatic ruse.
“I’m not sure I have a choice but to risk checking it out,” I tell him.
“I understand,” he sighs. “I have a bad feeling about it.”
“How many kill-bots are purported to be there?”
“Sixty-three,” he replies with a shrug. “Strange number choice for a lie, but it could be calculated to make us think just that. It’s a small enough number to allow for the destruction of evidence should it be true. The Azza could land kill-bots, destroy the Kar’Kali landing party, and dispose of them for plausible deniability.”
“I agree it sounds like a trap,” I say, “but there’s enough there that I could believe the Azza had acquired the kill-bots to solve their inability to land on the surface. They were so desperate to secure the planet, throwing money at the problem. Just think how much they paid out to bounty hunters for the human females, only to turn around a resell for a fraction. They flooded the market, and there’s really no demand for humans—”
I might be working through this train of logic to determine what to make of the rumor about kill-bots, but Kaye pops into my head uninvited. The demand for human females in the slave trade was a bounty hunter bubble that burst quickly. What Kaye argued about her kidnapping being a ‘freak’ accident was not inaccurate.
“In any case,” I continue, grinding my teeth at this intrusive thought, “they could’ve been throwing money at the kill-bots just the same, ordering them quietly one by one. Perhaps they had a rounder figure in mind, but sixty-three is what they happened to have assembled when they heard the news of our fleet’s arrival. As for the ease of hearing about it… Well, whistle blowers get brave when they realize they could cause a catastrophe. No one wants to relive the age of automated wars. We’ve all seen the vids on that lovely subject.”
Kira nods, realizing my mind is made up. I’m going to find out whether it’s a trap or not.
We return to the bridge, and I offer to bring the boy down to the cargo bay to look at other clothes that might fit him. There are various things stored here, as the ship’s been passed from mission to mission. He looks goofy wearing my loungewear, and he might lose those pants at any minute if the drawstring loosens.
“Where’s Kaye?” he asks with furrowed brows as if he expects me to have locked her up in a cage.
“Finishing up her morning routine, I suppose,” I tell him. “Did you eat?”
“Yes,” he replies as we make our way down the hall.
“Good,” I say. To think he was balled up in our cargo bay all that time. It gives me a headache. “Growing males should not be consuming ration bars for every meal—”
“Ruka said you’re on a secret mission for the Ka’lakka. Informants, then? I can help! I’ve worked the comm readouts on my sister’s ship before, so I know how to scan for important messages.”
Captain Rossa has herkikiscanning for tips? Is he lying to me?
