The quadruple suns of Solarii IV burned on the tarmac outside the starship. I used the starship’s external security devices to run surveillance on the team leader, Dex, and the new team member.
“I don’t want another partner,” Dex growled to the young woman with the bag in one hand. “Least of all one of the exchange pukes from the parallel universe our physicists have discovered. I’ve got enough trouble with the team members I’ve got. Does that parse?”
“Sir, yessir.”
“Okay, kid. What’s your name and what are you good for?”
“Aimee, sir. Serial number 314159, ex-member of the 14th Dimensional Security Battalion. I’ve got an expert marksmanship badge and a UDL.”
“Universal Driver’s License, huh?”
“Sir, yessir.”
“You ain’t in the Regime Army anymore, Amy. Quit ‘sir’ing me.”
“Sir—Yes, Lieutenant Dex.”
“The name is Dex. Call me that. None of your fancy rank stuff.”
“Sir—Lieutenant—Dex—sir.”
“Is that too much for your processors?” Dex growled. Aimee had the brains not to attempt a reply. “Well, come on board the Typhoon and meet the other members of the team.”
They boarded the starship. The airlocks slid closed, then opened a moment later. The moment they left the airlock, the last member of the team shuffled up to them, ‘head’ swiveling. The robot’s screen displayed a page of enthusiastic greetings in binary.
“You’ll have to excuse C4. He’s a neural net robot and he was only manufactured two years ago, so he isn’t very smart yet. He only knows about fifty words, and forty have to do with explosives. Isn’t that right, C4?”
“Boom,” the robot replied.
“You’ll be quartered in the bunkroom with C4, if you don’t mind. C4 will show you the way. Meet me in the bridge in ten minutes.”
“Yes, sir—Lieu--Dex.” Dex rolled his eyes.
“Dex, don’t give her the briefing,” I pleaded. “If you do that, there’s going to be another one of those suspiciously well-timed alarms.”
“Quit being so superstitious,” Dex groaned. “I’m surprised that anyone so smart can be so childish.”
“It is not childish. It is proven by quantum physics that-” I shut up as Aimee walked onto the bridge.
“Who was that talking?” she asked.
“That was Ty,” Dex told her. “He’s the ship’s AI. Say hi, Ty.”
“Hello, Corporal Jaycee Aimee. How is Commander Larin of the 14th Dimensional Security Battalion?” Aimee looked surprised.
“How did you--?”
“--know the name of your CO?”I took over one of the bridge consoles to bring up one of my avatars, which gave her a wide grin. “I know things.” Anything on the Hypernet, and a good deal of the Defense Department’s classified things, to be precise. I have to do something with my 1.0056789^16 free cycles.
Aimee looked spooked.
“Thank you, Ty,” Dex told me. “Amy, we are in charge of dimensional security for the two adjacent sectors 59 and 76 in the eighth dimension. Our job in not to let the gremlins, spooks, or any of those dimension-terrorists into our universe.” Aimee looked unfazed. Clearly she’d done her homework and understood the convoluted nature of things in the eighth dimension. Dex continued, “We are not a military unit like your 14th DSB, although we have close contacts within the military.”
I noticed that he did not mention the fact that technically, we were part of the Department of Departmental Affairs. Don’t ask me to explain how this colossal snafu occurred; smarter AIs than me have been driven insane trying to figure out the intricacies of the organics’ politics. Just then, a radio call came in.
“Dex, I am receiving a transmission from Sentry Beacon 1,009,650,220 in Sector 59,” I informed him. “The beings of Universe A5J49O58VI are attempting to cross dimensions and universes again. Estimated time to breakthrough is sixteen minutes.” I would have said ‘I told you that would happen,’ but after I had told him that one time too many, Dex reprogrammed me never to be able to say those words in that sequence, so I had to improvise. “It seems that my ‘childishness’ has proved correct again.” Dex glared at the console where my avatar had been several minutes earlier.
“Ty, fire up the reactor and the dimensional correlator.”
“I took the liberty of doing that when you started your briefing.”
Dex muttered something highly uncomplimentary under his breath.
“I am an AI. I don’t have a mother, Dex,” I informed him. “You’re a programmer, you should know that.”
“Quit with the banter, just take us down to the eighth dimension,” he barked.
“I don’t want another partner,” Dex growled to the young woman with the bag in one hand. “Least of all one of the exchange pukes from the parallel universe our physicists have discovered. I’ve got enough trouble with the team members I’ve got. Does that parse?”
“Sir, yessir.”
“Okay, kid. What’s your name and what are you good for?”
“Aimee, sir. Serial number 314159, ex-member of the 14th Dimensional Security Battalion. I’ve got an expert marksmanship badge and a UDL.”
“Universal Driver’s License, huh?”
“Sir, yessir.”
“You ain’t in the Regime Army anymore, Amy. Quit ‘sir’ing me.”
“Sir—Yes, Lieutenant Dex.”
“The name is Dex. Call me that. None of your fancy rank stuff.”
“Sir—Lieutenant—Dex—sir.”
“Is that too much for your processors?” Dex growled. Aimee had the brains not to attempt a reply. “Well, come on board the Typhoon and meet the other members of the team.”
They boarded the starship. The airlocks slid closed, then opened a moment later. The moment they left the airlock, the last member of the team shuffled up to them, ‘head’ swiveling. The robot’s screen displayed a page of enthusiastic greetings in binary.
“You’ll have to excuse C4. He’s a neural net robot and he was only manufactured two years ago, so he isn’t very smart yet. He only knows about fifty words, and forty have to do with explosives. Isn’t that right, C4?”
“Boom,” the robot replied.
“You’ll be quartered in the bunkroom with C4, if you don’t mind. C4 will show you the way. Meet me in the bridge in ten minutes.”
“Yes, sir—Lieu--Dex.” Dex rolled his eyes.
“Dex, don’t give her the briefing,” I pleaded. “If you do that, there’s going to be another one of those suspiciously well-timed alarms.”
“Quit being so superstitious,” Dex groaned. “I’m surprised that anyone so smart can be so childish.”
“It is not childish. It is proven by quantum physics that-” I shut up as Aimee walked onto the bridge.
“Who was that talking?” she asked.
“That was Ty,” Dex told her. “He’s the ship’s AI. Say hi, Ty.”
“Hello, Corporal Jaycee Aimee. How is Commander Larin of the 14th Dimensional Security Battalion?” Aimee looked surprised.
“How did you--?”
“--know the name of your CO?”I took over one of the bridge consoles to bring up one of my avatars, which gave her a wide grin. “I know things.” Anything on the Hypernet, and a good deal of the Defense Department’s classified things, to be precise. I have to do something with my 1.0056789^16 free cycles.
Aimee looked spooked.
“Thank you, Ty,” Dex told me. “Amy, we are in charge of dimensional security for the two adjacent sectors 59 and 76 in the eighth dimension. Our job in not to let the gremlins, spooks, or any of those dimension-terrorists into our universe.” Aimee looked unfazed. Clearly she’d done her homework and understood the convoluted nature of things in the eighth dimension. Dex continued, “We are not a military unit like your 14th DSB, although we have close contacts within the military.”
I noticed that he did not mention the fact that technically, we were part of the Department of Departmental Affairs. Don’t ask me to explain how this colossal snafu occurred; smarter AIs than me have been driven insane trying to figure out the intricacies of the organics’ politics. Just then, a radio call came in.
“Dex, I am receiving a transmission from Sentry Beacon 1,009,650,220 in Sector 59,” I informed him. “The beings of Universe A5J49O58VI are attempting to cross dimensions and universes again. Estimated time to breakthrough is sixteen minutes.” I would have said ‘I told you that would happen,’ but after I had told him that one time too many, Dex reprogrammed me never to be able to say those words in that sequence, so I had to improvise. “It seems that my ‘childishness’ has proved correct again.” Dex glared at the console where my avatar had been several minutes earlier.
“Ty, fire up the reactor and the dimensional correlator.”
“I took the liberty of doing that when you started your briefing.”
Dex muttered something highly uncomplimentary under his breath.
“I am an AI. I don’t have a mother, Dex,” I informed him. “You’re a programmer, you should know that.”
“Quit with the banter, just take us down to the eighth dimension,” he barked.
Imaginedangerous
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