<<< PREV | FIRST | NEXT >>>

Chapter 6

"Okay," Lautrec said. "Trying to de-cloak the ship and alert the authorities to its presence sounds like the best plan that we can all agree on. Though with only three of us, well... I don't know how it's going to pan out. We can change direction if we have to, but hopefully it won't come to that. I shall pray for our success."

Quirk looked at the panther as if he had gone mad. "...I have never come across a religious robot before," he admitted. "But if you think it will help... Don't let me stop you."

"It will do something," Lautrec said firmly. "Whether it will be better or worse... I don't know."

So saying he made the praying gesture with his paws and was silent for a number of seconds.

"Well," he said eventually. "We'll have to see what happens next."

Quirk rolled his eyes, and then suddenly displayed a shocked face on his visor as a strip of paper tumbled down from the ceiling.

"What the...?" He gurgled.

Lautrec had eagerly pounced on the tickertape message and with Xerian's help unfurled it and began reading it aloud, translating the Furrae Common to the Outer Rim's main language for Quirk's benefit.

"GOOD PLAN BUT CHANCE OF SUCCESS DICEY - STOP - TRY ANYWAY - STOP - WILL SEND HELP - BOB - STOP - P.S. NICE DRESS - STOP"

"I was afraid of that," Xerian sighed. "When Bob 'helps' it doesn't always make things better."

"You mean they are real?" the Protogen looked scared, and then began trying to tidy his dress again in case Bob was still watching.

"Yes," Xerian said. "Long story short, he accidentally killed me by bringing me to another universe where my original Synth brain module wouldn't work. In that realm they had a technique allowing a soul to be transferred into a new brain. Hence I ended up with a replacement brain using the same technology as in Lautrec here. As for Bob, He is an extremely powerful hyperdimensional entity with godlike powers, but He is not infallible."

"Okay," Quirk said, looking visibly rattled. "So we may or may not get useful aid from this entity. Meanwhile, there are still a lot of unknowns. For instance, we'll need to figure out how to use the teleporter to get off the ship. And more urgently, we don't actually know how the cloaking device works and thus how to sabotage it. If we mess around we might disable the life support or something we actually need. However, I may be able to find that out."

"Oh no," Xerian looked horrified. "Please, don't t-torture anyone..."

"Actually I was going to hack into the ship's computers," Quirk said reasonably. "No point in looking for trouble if I can get what I need without. Also, people lie under torture."

"But... If this ship was designed by your lot, how come you're so good at breaking into it? Are you some kind of hacking expert?"

"It's included in the combat software suite on my implants. They're not just for killing people opposed to the Emperor, there's also full tooling for hacking and electronic warfare. Some of the ship's systems are hardened, but I have been breaking into things pretty much from day one."

"But that doesn't make sense either," Xerian said. "Surely if they built this, they'd have made sure their own systems are proofed against it too, right...?"

"You'd think that, wouldn't you?" Quirk said. "Imagine if you will - if you can - that you're an insane tyrant dedicated to wiping out inferior members of the Protogen race.
"You're going to find pretty soon, that after eliminating or imprisoning the deviants who don't fit your mould, the ones who think differently and can see around corners, you're not going to have a great time maintaining your technological superiority, because it turns out the folks who are good at that kind of thing tend to be a bit odd.
"And it only goes downhill from there. See, if someone sees a problem with something under that kind of environment, they won't point it out or attempt to fix it because doing so would draw attention to themselves. They'd be branded as a troublemaker and get demoted or even executed. And when all your engineers are too afraid to look for security holes, the data network is going to start resembling a sieve."

"Makes sense," Lautrec said. "We cyberjags were built by a totalitarian regime. I've heard stories from older brothers who lived under that system. It was brutal, and technology evolved slowly unless it was for a specific aim, like making a bunch of disposable guards to patrol a military base."

"So," Xerian asked. "How long will it take you to learn about the cloaking device?"

"There is a catch," the protogen said. "Two, really. Firstly, since the interesting stuff is on a separate network, we'll need to go to a specific location to access the appropriate data jack. So we will risk detection by going there. Hopefully we'll just encounter patrol robots, if we're lucky.
"Secondly, while I'm actually hacking the ship, I'll be in a trance-like state and unaware of my surroundings. So far I've been deliberately sticking to easy targets or bailing out if I can't manage the intrusion in a sensible time frame. Finding out about an entire topic like this will take time."

"So you'll need us to guard you," Lautrec sighed. "Xerian isn't going to be much good for that, but I should be able to handle myself in a tussle. My boss can at least go and warn you while I deal with our enemies, or at least hold them off..."

At that moment there was a bright blue flash. Quirk spun around and started flashing "KiLL" again, and the others turned to see a winged vulpine figure in the room behind them. He collapsed to the ground and then slowly picked himself up, dusted down his long gloves and looked around.

"Oh f***," Niall said. "Lautrec! Xerian! What are you doing here? I get the feeling I'm not in Kansas anymore. What gravity is this?"

"Master!" Lautrec cried, prancing with excitement and delight.

"You know I hate it when you call me that," Niall said.

"Sorry, sir." the cat said. "And I'm afraid it's my fault you are here. I prayed to Bob for aid, and he brought you here."

"Shit," the incubus said. "I was afraid of that."

"What's going on?" Quirk asked. "Who is this? What are they saying?"

"This is Niall Daryil," Xerian said. "He is one of the people who saved my life in Furrae. I think... there are two of him and I'm not sure which one we've got."

"R. Niall, I'm afraid," the vulpine said, catching his name in the middle of the alien language and deducing the context. "I guess Bob figured a real incubus might be crippled in a low-magic environment such as this. Makes sense he'd be cautious after his last attempt nearly killed Xerian."

"Why are you so pleased to see him?" Quirk asked the panther after that was translated.

"He is my creator," Lautrec explained happily.

"This is going to be a problem," Niall said in Furrae Common. "Lautrec, it sounds like you know their language well, correct?"

"Yes, boss," the panther said. "It took me a while but I have a decent grasp of it by now."

"Right. I must ask a big favour. I need to connect to your XLR port and access your computing centre."

"What for?" the panther looked worried.

"Just your computer, not your neural matrix," Niall added hurriedly. "I know you panthers can be very skittish and protective about your brains, and I guess I would be too if I came from a hellhole where they could be removed and destroyed at any moment for no good reason. Still, call this a favour for dragging me into this mess, okay?
"Listen. Your... our speech processing and language is shared between the neural matrix and the support system, so the underlying language model is accessible to the support OS. That's why Xerian woke up being able to speak Furrae Common, because dad and my twin had installed that as an extra."

"You mean... You want to download my understanding of the Outer Rim language?" the panther looked surprised. "I didn't know that was possible."

"I've never tried it, admittedly," Niall said, "But it should work. The one at risk here is me, not you."

"What are they saying?" Quirk asked. Xerian and Lautrec both tried to translate together, and then the panther took over.

"I designed his brain," Niall added, looking at Laurec proudly and patting him on the head with a shiny gloved hand. "Well, improved it, at least."

"But... But this Niall just said he had the same type of brain!" Quirk said, looking between Lautrec and R. Niall as the panther translated. "How can he have designed his own brain?!"

"It's complicated." Lautrec supplied. "He is an android replica of the original Niall. He designed the improved brains and built me before that happened."

"Anyhow, I'd better try and see if I can cross the language barrier," Niall said, unclipping a remote unit from his shiny jeans and connecting it to the nervous panther. "All done," he said shortly and disconnected it.

"Now," he said, sitting cross-legged on the floor. "This is the scary part. If this goes wrong, I want you or Xerian to pray to Bob, okay? Get him to send me back so I can be repaired."

"Yes, sir," the panther said, looking miserable.

So saying, Niall opened a hidden port behind his ear and plugged an optical cable into it. He closed his eyes and pressed the button on the remote. Then he twitched and collapsed into a heap.

"Master!" the jaguar yelled, distraught, and began trying to shake the limp incubus' gloved arm. Xerian crouched and examined the fallen vulpine. Niall shook himself and rolled over.

"Once upon a time there were three little wolves and a big bad pig," he said, and opened his eyes.

"Master...?" the panther asked, looking appalled.

"Please don't call me that," Niall said in Common, and then his eyes glazed for a second. "Zurf! Okay," he said, looking at Quirk. "Ambidextrous wildcats. Can you understand me now? Am I speaking Outer Rim?"

"Yes," Quirk said. "You said something about cats that made no sense, but you are now speaking a language my translation implants can handle."

"Just testing," Niall said, unplugging the cable from his skull and closing the port back up. "Nice dress, by the way. Now, would someone care to fill me in? Clearly something really bad must have happened for Lautrec to have summoned me here, but I don't know what."