The ABACUS Protocol Page 14

  “One does not work with plebs. They serve without question,” Bryce said with a smile. The machine simply didn’t understand—it only cared about processes and science, not history.

  “It appears you are incapable of remorse,” quIRK said.

  Bryce’s eyes bulged and his face turned bright red. He rubbed a hand through his thinning hair. Remorse would imply he’d done something wrong; all he had to regret was neglecting to adjust quIRK’s ethical subroutines to reflect a more logical morality. “You are discriminating against my superior cultural background. I will bring my grievance to the highest levels of the New Damascus Science Authority, and we shall see who is wrong.” He could salvage this—prove that she’s working for Septimus and the Imperatrix—then he could take them all down.

  “That is your prerogative, but you may wish to take a more dignified tone before Vivian and Robert arrive, or it will be a very long month for you before the authorities arrive,” quIRK said.

  Bryce bit his tongue before retorting, and held himself still as he floated in the air. He would not let those people see him distressed. He held his head high and his eyes wide, and stared at the family crest floating just off the wall. That was his moral imperative, and the people who mattered only existed in his future.

  The door slid open, and he saw Vivian leaning against the entrance, while Robert stood behind her, twisting his face into a ridiculous scowl. Vivian’s face held no expression, her hair wild and unkempt like a barbarian’s. If only she had come alone, he would teach that little coward a lesson to remedy her impudence. A long pole trembled in her hand.

  “Brace yourself,” quIRK said. Bryce was being pulled towards the ground as quIRK adjusted the gravity. The impact was softer than he’d anticipated. Once he was on the floor, Robert strode into the room and seized his shoulder. He would have quIRK dismantled for letting them see him in such an undignified state!

  “Let me go, you dog,” Bryce sneered, pushing himself to his knees. He slapped the hand away.

  “You have a lot to answer for. Keep your damn mouth shut,” the old man said, and his words sent droplets of spittle into Bryce’s face. Bryce was pulled to his feet by shaking hands. quIRK must have kept the gravity low.

  “You can’t hope to judge me,” Bryce said, with a smile. “How about you let me go, run back to your lab and I’ll make it worth your while once I’m elevated.” Everybody had their price, except for quIRK, it seemed.

  “Devon was my world. Vivian and Alec are my friends,” Robert said, choking on the words. “That’s worth more to me than any disgusting bribe, you pig.” He took a deep breath and shoved Bryce towards the door. The girl had the nerve to smile. She was enjoying this.

  “Power and wealth are the only friends I need. You should thank me. You’re the lead researcher now,” Bryce said. Could nobody on this station understand reason and advancement?

  Bryce’s eyes widened and his lungs emptied as Robert slammed him against the wall. “You are going to give me a very good reason to make it look like you were crushed in the explosion,” Robert growled in his ear, and he continued: “And don’t try anything with the girl. The rest of humanity knows better, and we’re better off without your kind.”

  All Bryce could do was nod his head in weak acceptance while trying to suck in a lungful of air. The authorities would hear of this mistreatment. He would arrange to be extradited to Caesarea, where he would be granted a fair hearing. His own people would understand that he’d done nothing wrong, and was acting in the best interests of his house. This kind of intrigue was normal and essential to the functioning of Caesarean society.

  The pressure eased, and he tried not to give the pair the satisfaction of wheezing. He would walk with his head held high, a giant in the presence of such pathetic, primitive beings. He stayed a pace ahead of them as they walked towards his quarters. His back burned as though it was being probed by thousands of hot lasers, but he forced himself to dismiss the agony. The farm girl walked with a pronounced limp—at least his subterfuge hadn’t been for nothing.

  “So you’re going to lock me in my room for a month? How brilliant.” He couldn’t help himself, the notion was ludicrous.

  “There’s an excellent moth documentary you can watch,” Robert growled at him.

  “We’ll make sure you’re fed,” Vivian said, sighing.

  “I don’t know what you think you learned in school, little girl, but you’ll never be able to keep quIRK under control without me,” Bryce said. Perhaps the girl had some concept of self-preservation; clearly the scientist was too absorbed in his grief to comprehend what was at stake.

  “quIRK and I have an excellent working relationship.” Vivian’s voice cracked. It was just the chance Bryce needed.

  “You’re even more naive than you look! He won’t let you leave this station alive once you know his dirty little secret,” Bryce said.

  “What, he likes cats?” Vivian snapped at him, and he heard Robert snickering behind him like an overgrown child. His quarters were near, which emboldened him.

  “I’ll let you figure it out,” he said. “With any luck, he’ll blow you into space himself. It would be a kinder fate than life as a subhuman Auroran freak.” His door opened, but as he took a step inside, a strong push catapulted him into his room. He cried out as his knees connected with the floor, and a sharp jolt shot through his wrists. He turned back to his assailants, hoping to determine which of them had the impudence to touch him.

  “Sleep tight, Emperor,” the girl said with a sneer, and the door slid closed. He clenched his fists and grit his teeth. Bryce fought down the impulse to scream or beat against the cold floor. He would have her broken. He was already writing his police statement in his mind, so engrossed in thought that he didn’t feel the pain in his back as he picked himself up off the floor.

  He’d planted the seed—quIRK would take his revenge for him. Perhaps she could succeed where he’d failed, and earn herself a gruesome death for her trouble. Being in his room guaranteed that he would survive—and see his mother again.

  Thirty-One

  Vivian’s hands continued to shake long after Bryce had been locked in his quarters. She’d known he was an unlikeable person who spent his time mired in a dream world, but she didn’t know he was capable of such vicious, evil disregard for human life. The man in the room behind her was unrepentant, and his acerbic superior attitude turned her stomach. How could he judge what was or wasn’t human? Their ancestors had all originated on Earth; she’d thought humanity had moved beyond simple prejudice. If he’d even bothered to look at her personnel files, he’d have all the evidence of her humanity and capabilities right there.

  The calculations she, Robert and quIRK were working on in the computer informatics lab weren’t looking good. They’d elected to work there, rather than taking over Bryce’s office. Vivian wasn’t about to let Robert be alone. She wished they could take the evening off—she wanted to check on Alec herself—but, every minute they wasted left them that much farther off course and deeper into intergalactic space. Alec would understand, and quIRK was with him.

  Her fingers and mind worked with the alacrity of an Auroran lightstorm—it was all she knew how to do. quIRK could do her job, but she needed the diversion. She’d suggested working in Alec’s room, but quIRK insisted that Alec needed to be left alone.

  The calculations to re-position the station were trivial for quIRK and Robert, but that wasn’t the real issue. Despite the efficiency of their air recycling system, it also required there be enough oxygen to keep the station’s air breathable for all its inhabitants. The majority of the reserves had been expended when they had re-pressurized the core in preparation for another, albeit better planned, explosive decompression. The process itself was simple—quIRK would rotate the station to face the opposite direction, and decompress the computer core. With the proper angles and the same amount of force, it would be enough to stop their slow drift into the void. Then, they’d send their revised lo
cation to New Damascus so the rescue ship would know where to find them. Afterwards, they’d sit, wait and worry about the future and hopefully not deal with popping ears from poorly regulated air pressure.

  At least she had a future.

  Vivian’s task—and the more serious issue—was determining which portions of the station could remain operational after using up their air reserves. The oxygen could be pumped out of the core before the explosion, but the atmosphere itself would become dilute and weak, because the gases could not be replaced. To maintain proper barometric pressure, she would need to close down parts of the station and have quIRK pump them down to a vacuum. Vivian gave herself a five percent margin of error to account for any other emergencies. Some rooms were easy to select—Devon’s room, and the four unused crew quarters could be depressurized with few effects on the crew’s comfort. The hallway’s bulkheads could close off additional spaces, but given the scattered nature of their working areas, it would save them a few cubic meters of air at most. The work-related areas of the station needed to remain operational, but perhaps she could schedule fixed dining hours, when the dining hall would be pressurized at the expense of an unused workspace or lab. The plan would take discipline and required filing detailed work plans with quIRK, but it would be doable without interfering with their jobs or the overarching mission. Alec could still affect repairs on the beta telescope; Robert could continue his research and Vivian could access the core and Bryce’s office. She had no intention of abandoning her upgrade project. She had little to do otherwise.

  “Okay, I have an idea for atmosphere distribution,” she said. She could see why Devon and Robert had been such a good team—Robert was quick, focused and determined to continue his work at all costs. Although he’d break down crying at times, he could be brought back into focus. Vivian hated having to snap him out of his grief, but she didn’t want to be lost in deep space.

  “Let’s hear it,” Robert said, resting his head in his hand and leaning over the desk.

  “Okay, if we all filed work reports like how I have to for my project, quIRK can anticipate which rooms and areas are going to be used. Furthermore, we can put in fixed dining and recreation times. So, we’d all work the same shift, but we all get to breathe, too,” Vivian said, rubbing the sore spot on her hip.

  “What about emergencies?” Robert asked.

  “I can pressurize any room on the station in minutes,” quIRK said. “With appropriate coordination the plan will work.”

  “I suppose fewer late shifts for me, but, well …” Robert began, before breaking off and staring into space. Vivian remained silent. She was not experienced in dealing with death, other than a paternal grandfather who had died when she was three—young people seldom needed to confront or even acknowledge their own mortality. She shivered and looked at her shoes.

  “I suggest a nine-hour primary shift starting at nine o’clock central New Damascus time, with one meal break,” quIRK said, breaking the long silence.

  “Nine is a little early for me,” Robert said.

  “I realize you keep later hours, but this is the closest averaging of remaining crew schedules,” quIRK replied. Vivian scowled at having her habits rendered into a sterile number and interpreted by a machine, but she recognized that efficiency was the most important consideration in their new lives.

  “All right,” Robert conceded. “I did go into astrophysics for the challenge. I guess this is no different.”

  “quIRK makes some great coffee; you’ll be fine,” Vivian said. It was the closest thing to a positive spin on the situation she could think of. She’d get to sleep in for the first time since going to the Extra-Galactic Observatory. She was usually in her lab by seven.

  Robert opened his mouth to reply, but he was cut off by quIRK. “Thank you, Vivian. I would like to recommend a seven-day work schedule. We are severely undermanned.

  “No days off?” Vivian asked. She enjoyed the one day of freedom she allowed herself, even if it was usually spent reading or exercising.

  “quIRK makes great coffee,” Robert said, leaning back in his chair.

  Vivian sighed and ran her fingers through her hair.

  “Now that we are in agreement,” quIRK said, “I shall begin station rotation. You should begin stowing all loose equipment.”

  They sprang into action; Vivian took special care to place her tools back into their assigned spots, after removing them from the desk. She’d rushed to check them after the original decompression, but she’d had no time to put them in their place. Her hip ached, but she was now better able to bear the pain. She tried not to think about what the bruise across her abdomen looked like. Robert passed her tools as she placed them inside the sliding drawers. She could organize them later—some were fragile high-precision equipment that would already need hours of recalibration after the initial accident.

  She had just slammed the storage compartment shut and turned the lock when quIRK spoke: “I am ready to decompress the core. Brace yourselves.”

  Vivian wasn’t sure what exactly would be most secure, so she pressed herself against the wall opposite the one she had been thrown against—Robert did the same and nodded to her. She sat down and drew her knees to her chest, pulling in some deep breaths. Only one small hatch protected them from the vacuum of space. Vivian looked away from it, to the illusion of order her lab provided.

  The sudden pressure slammed into her again, but she had prepared herself for it, and for the time it would take for the gravity generator to re-adjust itself to the new angle. Her heart threatened to pound itself out of her chest, but she forced herself to take strong, deep breaths. It would be over soon, and she could stop wondering if they were going to starve to death in the infinite void of space. Rather, she could focus on suffocation instead, especially if the rescue vessel was late. She knew they wouldn’t have a response from the New Damascus Authorities for at least six days. Vivian planned to send them an update tonight, so they could prepare the rescue crews, and take Bryce into custody when they arrived.

  “You may stand,” quIRK said, interrupting her plans. She looked up to see Robert already on his feet, looking down at her.

  Robert extended a hand towards her. “Well, that wasn’t fun. Let’s keep the air inside from now on, okay quIRK?” Robert said as he turned to leave.

  “Where are you going?” Vivian asked, letting Robert pull her to her feet.

  “Don’t you know?” Robert said. “It’s dinnertime. We can draw quarks on who gets to take Bryce his dinner.” There was a meager upturn to his lips.

  “I had better not draw antiblue,” Vivian said, scanning her lab. The drawers had stayed sealed. It would be good to eat and let life return to a semblance of normalcy. A new normal.

  Thirty-Two

  Alec struggled to think through the pounding pain in his head and neck, still as intense as it was when he’d first regained consciousness. Muon lay curled up around his head, offering some level of comfort, while Lepton favored lying over his feet. His body resonated with pent up energy, and he clenched his fingers and toes. He was stuck in here with nobody to speak with but quIRK. His colleagues were outside, planning his survival and working on solutions to their collective problems, and he was lying in bed with an overprotective supercomputer babying him. At least he had music and some selection of entertainment that he could passively consume, but he’d rather be on his feet fixing things. Alec was sure that the intense pair of blasts, coupled with the gravity shifts, had knocked the telescopes out of alignment; they were fickle devices—he had his work cut out for him. quIRK was filling him in on the new developments, and it seemed he’d be working overtime for the next month.

  The task list he was building in his head seemed endless. In addition to all of the repairs he had to conduct, he needed to file a work plan every day. It was absurd—he worked on an as-needed basis. He could have business anywhere, at any time. Every hour he spent in bed, with a nine hour limited work day, no less, he fell even fur
ther behind. Intergalactic space didn’t seem so bad.

  He considered staying in bed for the remainder of the mission, but that would be unfair to Vivian and Robert. Even with a computer as sophisticated as quIRK, they’d be unable to keep up with the work load, and somebody else was needed to help keep Bryce contained. Alec couldn’t believe he missed it—the signs that the malfunctions were targeted sabotage were everywhere. But he’d been so distracted with squash and poker that he’d overlooked the evidence when it was right in front of him. He could not believe how stupid he had been. These were mistakes made by teenagers, not by professional adults.

  Alec wasn’t going anywhere fast, and he knew it. He’d tried to stand, but he became dizzy and had trouble remembering where he needed to go. He tried to focus on what quIRK was saying, but found himself to be easily lulled to sleep by that melodic, artificial voice. quIRK would play loud noises, or flash the lights to keep him awake; the computer could use an improved bedside manner. Alec wished he could be out there. Vivian should not be made to face her tormentor—he and Robert should be the ones to handle that unpleasant task. The reports from quIRK about what was said shocked him; Alec didn’t know if he could have kept a cool head while hearing that tirade of abuse. He would have done more than just shove Bryce against the wall, or fling the disturbed little man into his room. Perhaps it was better that he hadn’t attended.

  “Vivian would like to come in; she has food,” quIRK said. At last, another human to talk to. His room was in disarray—the explosions had knocked his personal effects from their homes, but he was in no condition to be picking things up, and that was even if he remembered where they were supposed to go.

  “I hope you chose something good for dinner, quIRK.” Alec wasn’t hungry, but he hoped that the hard knot in his stomach would be eased by a hot meal.

  “Only the best Auroran cuisine, of course,” the machine said, before opening the door.