Tobias Buckell - Ragamuffin

No computer virus would ever take this ship. Only slide rules and abacus could compute orbits, or calculate the speed of the Gulong , or position the slender needle of the ship’s nose into the heart of a wormhole to destroy it. A gift from the Satrapy after it was used to cut Earth away from the wormhole network, to keep the rest of the race in check.

When Etsudo looked back from the human computers, Jiang Deng excused himself. “I must head to the Stage Two briefing.”

“Stage Two?” Etsudo had heard nothing of a briefing, or of a second component to the shutdown of Dragin-Above.

“It’s a military operation.” Deng smiled. “Destruction-oriented, not of interest to you.”

He left. Brandon hovered in the air and looked in at the chamber of human calculators.

“It’s a test chamber for the Dragin-Above refugees.” Brandon said. “The main processing chamber for the Gulong is closer to the heart of the ship. They’re just checking here to make sure the reconditioning is holding and that the new training is working.”

“We’re not tools,” Etsudo muttered. “We’re not just things to be used. We’re unique creatures, thinkers, inventors, believers. When we stop remembering that , we are no longer human, are we?”

“Better than death.” Brandon bowed his head as he said this.

“Are you sure about that? What is your last memory?”

“I’m as mentally pure as you.” Brandon folded his arms. “And what is your critique? The crew of the Takara Bune are reconditioned, aren’t they? Don’t they serve you well enough?”

They served Etsudo well. But not because he allowed Hongguo to recondition their minds. Etsudo changed the topic. “Why are you really coming aboard my ship?”

“You’ve held your own ship together long enough. I’m your second-shift captain, your night captain.” Brandon raised his hands. “I don’t know how you’ve managed alone with just a reconditioned crew for so long.”

Maybe Brandon was really coming to help, and not to take over Etsudo’s ship. But Etsudo doubted it.

On the shuttle ride back to the Takara Bune Etsudo leaned over to Brandon. “You question my ability to run my ship, which I have done smoothly for years. There are nine crew aboard my ship and one captain. How exactly do you fit into this?”

Brandon did not reply. He stared straight ahead.

Etsudo knew about men who didn’t need to prove themselves. They were dangerous. As the long seconds dragged on he watched the foot straps, lost in thought, until the shuttle jerked to a stop.

Once it shuddered rudely into place by docking collar, Etsudo pulled his feet free. Brandon floated first through the air lock and Etsudo closed his eyes. Through the Takara Bune ’s lamina he accessed the scanning equipment built into the walls of the air lock.

As the air pressure equalized, they both hung in place. And Etsudo scanned Brandon inch by inch. He found the man laced with machinery, no doubt to broadcast back to Jiang Deng everything they said. Brandon was feng, ready to be unleashed on Etsudo the moment Jiang Deng had an excuse.

Etsudo looked up as the door into the Takara Bune rolled open. No one waited for them. The alpha crew remained on shift in the cockpit, magnetic and physical locks in place to slow down any forced entry as Etsudo had ordered before leaving the ship. Gamma and zeta crew remained locked in their quarters, waiting for the all clear.

“I apologize. You know I’m related to the founders of the Hongguo.” Etsudo rolled his sleeve up and showed Brandon the dragon tattooed on his bicep. Much like the sigil the Jiang wore on their ceramic armor. “When you get settled in, come find me in the captain’s room. I want to show you something. A piece of their legacy. Maybe then you’ll understand my reluctance to give up all the years of history my family has within ships like the Takara Bune , and why I’m so testy right now.”

Brandon nodded. Etsudo left him by the dull metal doors of the air lock. He needed to prepare for what came next. Burning through people’s minds, re-creating them into a new image, it took time, calibration, and special equipment.

All of which Etsudo had in his cabin. All of which was completely illegal by decree of the Satrapy.

But first, a hard burn out away from the ruins of this habitat and upstream toward more heavily populated systems. Up away from Deng and his heavily armed ship, the Shengfen Hao . Back to his own devices. Etsudo relaxed and accessed the ship’s lamina, sliding into the world of data sitting all around him. “Sabir?”

“Listening,” the alpha crew’s pilot responded.

“Upstream to Thule via Tsushima. Get updated traffic maps for Pawtucket, Gateshead, and Trinity.” At Thule he’d have the option to go to one of three forks. All three had enough human population density for him to justify a search for illegal technology.

“Crew change is coming up in fifteen minutes,” Sabir’s voice whispered in Etsudo’s ear. “Should we remain in the cockpit?”

“Yes. Stay put until Brandon enters my room. Then change shift. But remain locked down after shift change. This man could be dangerous. Now, get the ship moving.” The longer he remained near the elite of the Hongguo, the more nervous he got.

“Of course.”

Warning lights flipped on, turning the interior of the ship dark red. The Takara Bune accelerated as Etsudo fled his fellow Hongguo.

The door to Etsudo’s cabin rolled aside. Etsudo brushed past a pair of tortured bamboo plants running along the room’s midrail, his fingers brushing green shoots as he pulled himself over to Brandon. The Takara Bune coasted now, not too far from Tsushima with the better part of a day already gone.

“Come.” Etsudo waved the man in.

Brandon took in the red-cushioned room, looking briefly at the comfortable half sphere of Etsudo’s couch, the tatami stapled to the walls, and several sparse paintings of Earth landscapes. Waterfalls, ponds.

“You really want to talk about your family, or something else?”

“My will won’t stand long against all the Jiang of the Hongguo. I have no choice but to let you into the ship, and to give your reports back, and to do what is asked of me. But, look, come closer and you’ll understand my own pridefulness.” Etsudo pointed out a small printed picture, framed by a brassy-looking wood. “Read the plaque.”

Brandon floated two feet away from the picture. The fathers of the Hongguo: Hajiwara, Nakamoto, and Singh.

“That was my great-grandfather.” Etsudo hung by Brandon’s elbow. As he continued, he closed his eyes, accessed his ship’s lamina, and gave a simple command to the machinery behind the picture’s façade. “The only reason Jiang like Deng haven’t made me disappear yet. There are those who would notice one of the sole family members of the founding fathers gone missing.”

Brandon didn’t reply; he hung motionless in the air. A short pulse of energy had scrambled his synapses and knocked him out.

“They’re such proud, fine men,” Etsudo said. “It’s a shame I was adopted and couldn’t really care less about blood.” He spun Brandon around. The man’s face hung slack.

The Jiang would disapprove of this piece of illegal technology housed behind that frame. As well as all the other equipment Etsudo kept throughout the walls of his cabin. He was a good candidate for reconditioning, or execution.

But this was his ship. The Jiang could go to hell. Etsudo moved Brandon to the couch and strapped him in. Then he folded his legs and hung before Brandon as he waited for the man to wake up.

When he did, he struggled to free himself. Etsudo shook his head. “Don’t do that, I’d hate to see physical harm come into this equation.”