The Brutus Code

Her nose was running again, and sweat ran down her forehead, stinging her eyes. She was still recovering from sixty-three years of cold storage courtesy of the Postal Service. But Agnes couldn’t wipe either away in her suit.

“Every time we go to a new station, I catch a new bug,” she complained.

“What was that?” Tommy signaled.

“Nothing, just complaining to the cosmos,” Agnes signaled back to the shuttle.

She struggled to focus on the access port in the floor of the control shack. She and one of Alfred’s spider avatars dug through the thirty feet of debris from the surface of Gliese 667Ce. This was her home, a binary planetoid in a triple star system. The planetoid should have hung peacefully, sharing an orbit above the third gas giant of her home system. This was one of many lost colonies in the galaxy.

Instead, they found two ruined, airless moons on an erratic orbit. One moon plunged into the atmosphere of the same gas giant ninety hours out of every four hundred and twenty-five. Instead of burning up with the friction, its twin pulled it out again, just dipping it into the gas giant’s atmosphere for a toxic bath. The once flowing hills and valleys were scoured off the face of the planetoid by the corrosive atmosphere of the giant, leaving a flat scorched plain in all directions on this moon.

The landing hatch of the hanger at her family’s settlement stood intact, but it should have been hidden beneath the largest mountain on this world. Instead, it was blown clean and exposed to the elements.

Agnes volunteered to dig her way into the planet and open the landing hatch. That hadn’t seemed like a problem a day ago. Then she discovered the destruction below the maintenance hatch, and it had taken Alfred’s avatars hours to dig through it. They discovered atmosphere in the hanger bay and power, but the main door remained jammed, trapping Tommy and the Ai’s outside in the Swift’s shuttle. If Agnes couldn’t find an override code that would open the door, they would be caught outside when the planet entered the giant’s atmosphere again.

“Agnes. Status?” Tommy signaled from the shuttle.

“I’m still digging out the leads I’ll need to connect to the keypad. It’s just a matter of time.” She was glad Tommy didn’t remind her that not much time remained for the shuttle. Tommy waited instead of abandoning it and following Agnes into the hanger through the maintenance hatch. Without the shuttle they would not have a way back to the Swift. The ship parked safe in orbit waiting for their return. If only, if only, she thought. If only we hadn’t found her home planetoid.

She had awoken in a cold sweat again. This time in her dream the Ogre sat blocking the door to her laboratory. She was desperate to get in there and seal herself in its safe cocoon. The big rock like Ogre would not budge. In her dream, she found a fire locker, standard on all outpost and ships. So she used the extinguisher to freeze the Ogre and the crow bar to smash it and that’s when she woke up. Wide awake, Agnes checked on the caskets in the med bay.

Once there, she knew she wouldn’t go back to sleep, so she dug into her casket. She understood the engineering and structures in her casket. What puzzled her was even though Christine’s casket was constructed recently, it matched the technology of her sixty year old casket exactly. “Alfred, may I borrow some of your smallest avatars?” Agnes was always careful to be polite. She felt she should never take the AI for granted.

“Certainly, Agnes. How may I assist you?” Alfred responded.

“I need to do a thorough examination of Christine’s casket, and I can’t use active scans. We can’t afford to damage any of the systems.”

“I can assist in a passive examination to a microscopic level, but my micro avatars cannot penetrate many of the sealed units contained within the casket,” Alfred’s responded.

“We’ll use my casket as a baseline and extrapolate from there,” Agnes instructed. So they began their work. Tommy poked his head in after ships dawn to check on her but recognized the intense concentration Agnes focused on the problem. So, Agnes shouldn’t have been surprised to find a breakfast packet and cup of coffee sitting next to her elbow on the workbench. Tommy left them realizing she might forget to eat.

By the end of the day, she and Alfred had compared systems, circuits, programing, and the physical structure of both caskets. They were identical, and they should not have been. “All else being the same, perhaps we should look at the differences,” Alfred suggested.

“OK,” Agnes began, “I’m awake, Christine is still in hibernation. Therefore, my casket is no longer functioning as a hibernation chamber.”

“True,” Alfred agreed. “It does still draw power to its systems.”

“Yes, only to keep them active and provide power to the two media interfaces.” Then Agnes inhaled suddenly. “The two interfaces. Both caskets were designed for two media units. But Arnold wasn’t even in the picture when I designed my casket and was suspended. The unit that Tommy’s father had designed still fit. We know that they are more than they appear.”

“Suspended?” Alfred asked.

“Put under, frozen. You know, placed in my casket and took the long sleep,” she explained.

“Got it, slang.”

“Alfred, can we access Christine’s media interfaces at all?”

“No, like your casket they are built in a sealed unit with both coded and DNA locks. We had access to yours after you revived and we were able to open it. Dr. Ann suggested that only Annie Judson will have the code to access Christine’s unit,” Alfred explained. “Why?”

“I don’t know. It may be a memory, or just a hunch. Can your micro avatars access the inside of the box?” she asked.

“I’m doing it now. This is a very tightly machined unit,” Alfred shared. Agnes followed the progress on her monitor. She saw the locations of the spiders as each explored the unit for a way in. Finally, one squeezed into the lid. Inside displayed a bug’s eye view of the two slots for media units. Where Agnes’ had the slots and no players, this unit had one empty and one full slot. The media unit had a Quick Response code on it.

Alfred scanned the code and said, “The code reads Christine’s name and gives a document of her condition.”

“That makes sense.”

“There’s more,” he continued. “The document contains information for the antivirus and cure. The other slot has Annie Judson’s name and her condition as well as the antivirus information.”

Dr. Ann monitored their progress from her isolated media unit in the medical bay. She interjected, “I have no record of an antivirus in any of my memories. As I scan information about Christine, there are holes. It’s strange, but I never even thought to look for my own, sorry, Annie’s medical records. They are locked. Why would she do that? As her avatar I could have treated her.”

As Tommy slid into the bay and took a seat, Alfred explained. “I called Tommy. He needs to be here. Annie’s condition indicates that she is the true patient zero. She carries the antivirus within her casket. She has made herself a weapon against this biological threat.”

They all took a moment to digest this information. Then Agnes crawled under her own casket. “What are you doing?” Tommy asked.

“Everyone who has a casket has a media player. Annie, Christine,” she answered. “In a good design there is redundancy. Since Dr. Ann is a copy of Annie, I’m going to assume that the media player in Christine’s casket should hold a copy of her personality. My casket had two empty slots and no matrix scan code that we could see.” She grabbed a micro scanner from her toolbox and crawled under her own casket removing access panels. Her muffled voice sounded a moment later, “Ah ha!” Agnes crawled out from under her casket holding the scanner. “Here Alfred, let’s run this ultraviolet scan through a filter to get better resolution.” She found the residue of the matrix codes on both interfaces.

“The first is incomplete, but this slot is for a media player that bears Agnes’ name. We might assume that there was a media player with a virtual Agnes here. The scoring on the interface shows that it was used, but not for over sixty years.”

“I have a copy out there somewhere,” Agnes said with a mixture of shock and excitement. “It holds my history and my memories. Who is the second interface for?”

“It is for your father, Caesar Zephyr,” Alfred answered.

“Nothing else?” Tommy asked. With no reply, he said, “It’s late. Get to bed.” He saw Agnes’ exhaustion. Maybe tonight she’ll get some sleep, he thought.

But she didn’t. She awoke later with a piercing headache. Dr. Ann gave her something for the pain. Once she could think past the pain, she remembered the dream. She was running down a long hall to her laboratory at home. She couldn’t see what was chasing her, but she knew she had to get to her casket. This time there was no Ogre blocking her path. This dream was more memory. She had climbed into her casket and given the code, “Flush me,” to an Ai, and then she panicked as she remembered she didn’t have her media player installed. It was still sitting on her workbench just a few steps away. She pounded against the sealed lid of her casket in her dream. Then she woke up.

If only Tommy and Anne Judson-Ai hadn’t dug into Annie’s media player and found the medical database they wouldn’t have found her home system. But it still came back to her. Her headaches and dreams of her home persisted. Agnes insisted they follow this lead. Maybe the headaches would stop and she hoped they found answers.

All of these improbable decisions and discoveries led her here with her nephew hanging outside that hanger door waiting to die. No, not to die, waiting for Agnes to do a job she didn’t even know she knew how to do.

All the circuits and data chips fit so easily in place as she worked to reconstruct the interface. The massive mess they were in worried Agnes. She could fix it. She wasn’t sure she could fix it in time for Tommy to dock. Then she had to find the correct access code to override the control Ai and allow their modern ship to be identified by this antique system.

“Thirty minutes. Wind is picking up,” Tommy updated her.

“Alfred, check the red line, please.”

“I have a clean signal,” Alfred replied.

“Thank you. And now the yellow,” Agnes continued entering a focused state of concentration. She neither rushed nor gave up. Alfred noticed that her efficiency increased as time ran out. “Good, now try some access codes, please,” Agnes requested.

Alfred could not directly access the software through the port that Agnes repaired. His avatar manipulated a keypad to enter code. Not as efficient as a direct link, they could not risk setting off any security software that would see Alfred as a threat. The first four attempts failed, and the message appeared on the small screen above the keypad, “Incorrect password. You have five more tries available.” As a mining settlement security was not a premium when the settlement was established. “No good on standard access codes,” Alfred shared with his crew.

Agnes tripped a couple of circuits and switched three more connections. “Try again.”

Incorrect password. You have four more tries available. The message glared back at both Agnes and Alfred’s avatar. “Try this code,” Tommy signaled a universal Postal Service access code and Alfred entered it.

“Still no good,” Agnes groaned. She hummed a tune aloud.

“What is that?” Alfred asked. “I cannot identify it in any data bases.”

“I’m not sure. I started hearing the melody in my head as I was repairing the ship’s systems. It calms me and focuses me while I work on difficult problems,” Agnes replied.

“Three minutes until full atmospheric emersion,” Tommy signaled. “The wind is bad out here.”

Agnes left her channel open as she worked. She entered another code she hoped she remembered. Two more attempts glowed back at her now. “Ann, is there anything in your memories that might help?”

“No, Annie had moved away from this planetoid before she could read. Her memories are of childhood stories. She never had access to the hanger or functions of the settlement.”

Agnes now focused harder, pulling a power unit and testing its level before reattaching it to the access panel. “Ta dum, ta dum, ta dum te dah tum.” She sang aloud to help her focus.

“The monkey chased the weasel,” Ann sang the lyric. “I know this tune.”

“I do, too,” Tommy chimed in. “The monkey thought t’was all in fun...”

“Pop goes the weasel,” suddenly popped into her head as she sang the lyric. “The notes.” Agnes taped in the intervals of the notes on the access keypad. There was a grinding of motors within the hanger and dust fell from the rafters. A crack opened in the center of the hanger bay doors as light spilled in and wind blew from outside.

“You got it,” Ann signaled, and the others joined in to congratulate Agnes.

“Don’t get too excited. These doors haven’t opened in almost a century.” Agnes was right. They opened only enough for Tommy to taxi the shuttle into the protection of the bay, but the doors had difficulty cycling through the closing sequence. They ground to a stop and remained stuck open by six feet.

“I’ve got this. Just give me a minute, and yes I know we may not have that with the wind picking up,” Alfred said. He sent his avatar into the rafters of the hanger to the door mechanism. Moments later the door closed.

Agnes joined Tommy as he exited the shuttle. “We’re in and trapped for at least the next ninety hours,” she said.

“Yup,” Tommy replied. He shined a flashlight through the dust clouds in the hanger. “Which way?”

“Over here.” Following her instinct and hazy memories, Agnes led the way to an elevator shaft. The lift had long ago lost power and settled to the bottom of the shaft. “I guess we’ve got some climbing to do.” Agnes sniffled back her running nose and unhooked a safety line. Hooking one end around a protruding structural support, one carabineer to her suit and the other to Tommy, descended into the shaft. A humanoid avatar and several spider avatars followed them down the shaft into the darkness of Agnes’ past.

Tania slipped into the Tattoo Parlor and looked back guiltily. Some of the feeling was well earned. She’d put this operation together herself and was determined to follow the code where it led. She decided that she was the best qualified to confront the code when she found it. The rest of her guilty glance fit her cover. She was playing a disenfranchised intelligence analyst looking to get out and find excitement away from the rows of cubicles where her talents were wasted for a government that doesn’t appreciate her.

She’d done her homework. This profile was a common theme across the list of recruits she had profiled in her research on the pirates active in this sector. The break came when she saw Sheriff Johnson’s action report on the station attack. The tattoo designs on each pirate created the list, and her analysis had revealed the pattern.

Sutton hadn’t liked her operational plan, especially putting Tania in the field. That’s why Sutton had vetoed the plan knowing that Tania would go anyway. Tania had the training just as the last war ended. It was because of her high scores she became an analyst. It was either that or find a job outside the intelligence field and Tania was too driven for that. So she did her spying behind a desk.

Now, as her eyes adjusted, she began to have some doubts as to the wisdom of going into the field. The soul inhabitant of the shop sat at a counter, flipping through pages of tattoo art on his tablet. He perked up when a possible canvas walked through the door. “Well, hello there sweetie. What can we do for you today?”

“Interested in a tattoo design,” Tania said, advancing deeper into the darkness.

“Well, of course. Did you have something in mind?” said Tattoo Man, his short rotund form moving from behind the counter. He was still dressed from neck to toe in a pink plastic smock and leggings. His droopy eyes darted around taking Tania in from under heavy eyelids. Tania’s reflection showed in his glassy pupils.

“My friends recommended you. They said I might find the change more exciting, and they had one of these.” Tania showed the scythe design of Zephyr INC on a piece of real paper. “Of course their design was more,” she paused for effect and meaning, “visceral.”

The Tattoo Man flashed a weak grin showing no teeth. “Right this way, pretty lady,” he said as he gestured toward a complicated chair with hinged pads and straps. Tania sat down, anticipating an interrogation to see where she got her intel on the pirate operation. Instead, as she sat back in the chair, she felt a sting on her cheek. As she lost consciousness, she saw a woman’s head grinning at her from the ceiling above.

“Nice shot,” the Tattoo Man said as he dissolved into the specks of light that made him. “Get back with her casket. I have some questions for Tania Smith. How are you getting her off the station?” The sound of his voice reverberated through the room.

What remained of Cassie Anderson, the Angel Reaper, slid from the ceiling and landed on top of Tania, straddling her with tentacle legs and lifting her body. “Through the sewer,” she said, placing Tania in a casket hidden under the chair. “She’ll get flushed out with the garbage and we pick her up on our way out of the system.”

“Good,” the disembodied voice of Brutus faded away.

With a last look from the Angel Reaper’s fleshless skull, the lid snapped shut on Tania. Her casket slid with a splash into the sewer beneath the Tattoo Parlor.

Outside the Tattoo shop, a tourist sat having her portrait completed. “The package is delivered,” she shared.

“Thank you,” the artist replied as he added highlights to her smile.

“I don’t like putting her in play.”

“I know. Tania knows the risk and going in with the truth will keep her alive a little longer. And she has the training,” the artist’s replied.

“Control has no access to her now,” Sutton’s said.

“Not directly.”

“How many do we lose?”

“Too many and as many as it takes,” the artist and painting faded away as the masquerading tourist, Admiral Sutton stood and walked out of the alley of shops back to the main thoroughfare.

Tommy and Agnes had repelled to the bottom of the shaft. The lights on their helmets picked up the dust particles in the atmosphere as they looked around. Their steps kicked up even more clouds of dust as they moved to the door. Tommy hefted a large pipe from the remains of the lift car and wedged open the door.

As they stepped into the carpeted hallway of a residential level, lights came on. A panel activated in the wall opposite the lift. “Access code, please,” a pleasant Ai asked. Agnes looked at Tommy and shrugged. She had no idea what to do.

“Ah, I’m Agnes Zephyr. I’ve forgotten my access code. Help menu, please.”

The screen shifted to a palm shape. “Hand print and DNA requested access,” it said.

“This is going to be cold,” Agnes complained as she took off the glove of her suit. Placing her palm on the panel, it scanned her and then she felt a prick on her finger where a sample of blood was taken. Agnes quickly replaced the glove and rubbed her hand to get the circulation that the subfreezing temperatures had stolen from her.

“Please follow the wall indicators to your apartment.” Tommy and Agnes, followed by Alfred’s avatars, traced a broken line of lights on the wall deeper into the facility. It led them to a platform that opened into a large underground highway. Darkness cloaked everything except the platform. The design of this settlement was common for many of the larger settlements on the Frontier. In mining communities of one to two hundred thousand souls, they had dug into a planetoid. The entire community lived in tunnels under the surface. The large highways were for personal transport and moving supplies, equipment and ore on automated trucks and trams.

Agnes looked around confused. This was her home, but she remembered none of it. “This way, I think,” she said cautiously as she turned to her left, took two steps and then reversed to her right. Now more sure she strode off with her companions following. Her suit light landed on several tramcars sitting in a queue waiting to be boarded and take their passengers to a destination. When they got to the cars they could see that the first tram in the line was inoperable. It listed to one side, and the last car of the tram rested off the tracks. The next two had no power. The last one looked like it could carry them, but with two others in the way, they couldn’t move. “Oh, well. It was a good idea.” As Agnes said this, three cargo trams sped by, kicking up dust from the apparently deserted highway.

“Can’t hike either,” Tommy noted. He panned his light around and found what looked like a control booth sitting to the rear of the platform. “Agnes, look.”

“Hmmm, let’s see.” Agnes forced the door open and slipped into the booth. “I might be able to work with this,” she said. Ducking under the counter, she restored power to the monitors and control links. “Okay I’ll pull up the schematics of the local tracks. Here we are,” she spoke to herself as much as Tommy to help her focus. “Just need to order a maintenance bot to recover the dead trams and route them to the shed.” As she said this, the bots rolled up, lifted the dead trams onto their truck and sped away. “That should do it. But I’m surprised it worked at all. All of these systems should be shut down.”

“Yeah. It’s warmer,” Tommy observed. He held out one of Alfred’s spiders. “Breathable?”

“My sample indicates it will be. The oxygen, nitrogen content is rising. Air pressure is increasing, and the temperature continues to rise. There is a stiff breeze blowing up from below this level through the ventilation shafts. I would surmise that this level has been abandoned, but there appears to be functioning systems below,” Alfred reported.

“If it wasn’t creepy enough coming back to a home I can’t remember. Now it’s alive, and we’re trapped here for four days,” Agnes quipped. “Should we go on, Tommy?”

Tommy could have reminded her that this was her idea or that the only lead they had to find his mother led them to this haunted settlement. He could have given any number of reasons to stop now and go back. But he knew somehow that it was his job at that moment, to be an emotional support for Agnes. So he put his helmet’s faceplate against hers and said only, “Yes.” Then he smiled.

Hearing what she needed Agnes’ humor returned as she nodded and said, “In that case, our chariot awaits. All aboard.” They took seats in the first car of the tram, placing their pack of supplies on the floor. At another hand scanner Agnes took her glove off again, noting the temperature had risen, but still feeling cold on her skin. She placed her hand on the panel and said, “Zephyr quarters, please.” A chime sounded, and the tram pulled away from the station, shuttering with spits and coughs of the motor resisting years of abandonment.

The tram pulled out onto the highway and took a spiral path deeper into the planetoid. As they descended, the air continued to grow warmer and breathable. Neither Tommy nor Agnes trusted this good fortune, yet. Alfred sent gnats, small winged versions of his smallest spider avatars, ahead of the tram to scout. “So far nothing out of the ordinary for an active mining colony. Which only make’s it very extraordinary that we are finding these conditions in a deserted planetoid,” Alfred commented.

“Does seem like a good hiding place for pirates,” Tommy’s retorted. He kept his goo gun unholstered and ready. Agnes was also armed with a particle cannon of her own design. Although untested, she swore that it was perfectly safe to use in space. Tommy had no doubt that she knew her engineering. But he had yet to see a particle anything that wouldn’t put a hole in the side of a ship and take a man out with it.

“The traffic is picking up,” Agnes said. “Look there. It’s a whole convoy of parts trucks. They must be coming from the printers and are being moved to an assembly site. I can’t quite make out what they are, but it looks big.”

“Need more info. Alfred.” Tommy’s tone was enough for Alfred to know that he should do some snooping around. So he sent one of his avatar gnats to hitch a ride.

“Those girders are very lightweight and structurally strong. They are made of a composite material. Although they are printed parts, they have been cured under high temperatures for a long time to get the tensile strength I’m reading.” Alfred continued, “As to the purpose of these constructs, I may have to hang on until their destination to determine their use. Something that takes that strength to weight ratio indicates a possible space craft.”

“Wait, look. Those trucks are carrying sealed containers,” Agnes commented as several more trucks sped by and then veered off into a darkened tunnel. “Wonder what was in those and what the hurry was?” Agnes mused.

“I got an x-ray of the contents,” Alfred offered. “Those containers were packed with small electronic parts and structures I’ve only seen once.”

After a pause Tommy prompted, “Well?”

“Sorry, I was just reviewing my scans to confirm.” Alfred continued, “Those are components identical to the caskets in which Agnes, Christine, and Dr. Annie Judson were ensconced.”

Silence followed Alfred’s pronouncement. Minutes later it was broken when Tommy asked, “If no one is home, why all of this?”

After another good minute of thought, Agnes answered honestly, “I got nothing.” Alfred and Dr. Ann agreed. So they silently rode the tram deeper into the underground complex.

As they descended, Dr. Ann described the layout she remembered from Annie’s memories. The first settlers dug into the planetoid and mined it for all the ore and minerals they could. Long before the wealth of the planet ran out, the settlement had grown into a community and a home. Several of the families branched out into other industries that could be supported by the mineral wealth and their location on the Frontier. It had been a prosperous and lively settlement. Annie’s family had started out as the local doctors but their need for medical supplies lead to them develop manufacturing, research and development in medical supplies and treatments.

About then, the tram broke out into a vast cavern. The track they were on hung from the ceiling and looked out over a small city. Lakes and rivers spread out below them on the cavern floor. Housing and industrial areas clung to the walls and ceiling while in other parts of the cavern floor fields of planted crops grew in large square patchwork. Robots or avatars tended all these. No sign of human life joined the activity of an otherwise busy settlement, just these servants of humanity that hadn’t been told there was no one home to serve.

After a few minutes, the tram pulled into an alcove along the wall of the cavern. “This is our stop,” Agnes stated the obvious, “but I don’t know which way from here.”

“Down,” offered Dr. Ann. “The Zephyrs lived in this building in the penthouse on the bottom floor of this inverted skyscraper.” And indeed, according the building directory by the lifts, most of the family had apartments in this structure.

“Is it still safe?” Tommy asked the question on all their minds.

Agnes expertly eyed the structure with its thirty floors of apartments, all of them looking as if the occupants were all home. “If it’s like the fields below, I think it’s been well kept up by the maintenance bots and some kind of Ai.”

“I wonder why the lower levels have been maintained and not the surface levels?” Tommy asked. No one had any speculation on that point.

They all hefted their gear and boarded the lift going down. It took only Agnes’ name to gain entry to the building and access to the penthouse. “Hello, Mistress Agnes. Welcome home.” The house Ai greeted them.

“Hello…” Agnes was lost for a moment when, “… Marcus. It’s been a long time.” She hid a spike of pain in her head from Tommy. It passed as quickly as it had come.

“Yes, sixty-three years, five months, and fourteen days,” Marcus intoned. “But you haven’t aged a bit.” Agnes recognized a polite conversation subroutine when she heard it and new that was all it was. But it still sounded kind of creepy. “I have initiated environmental systems to accommodate you and your guest. You may remove your suits and hang them in the hall closet.”

“Thank you, Marcus. We’ll do that soon. I’ll call you when we need you. Please give us privacy mode for now,” Agnes requested.

“As you wish,” was the curt reply from Marcus as he shut off with an unnecessary audible click. Agnes and Tommy gave each other a ‘what the heck?’ look before they carefully evaluated their surroundings.

After inspecting the rooms and Alfred’s appraisal of the environmental systems, they took off their helmets. “Smells like..” Tommy started.

“Food,” Agnes finished. They ended up in the kitchen where a meal of vegetable soup and fresh bread was waiting them. There were fresh fruit preserves and glasses of juice to drink. “Nice…” Agnes noted as she took her seat. A spider avatar put a tentacle into the food and gave them the green light to dig in. “Why would anyone ever leave this?”

“Good question. All of the other apartments and buildings seem to be appointed just as luxuriously,” Tommy commented as he sampled the soup.

“If I can get access to the local network, I might find more answers. The evidence indicates that the settlement’s Ai closely controls all the wireless systems. Perhaps Marcus can get us access?” Alfred asked.

As they ate, Agnes glanced around nervously. The flavor of the food, the surroundings, and even the voice of Marcus all had a warm familiarity, but she had no memory of any of these things. That creeped her out. Worse than the feeling of being a ghost in her own home, her headache had returned.

After they ate, Tommy took time to explore more of the lower levels. Off the main entrance to the apartment were staircases going back up into several wings. There appeared to be a guest wing with accommodations. Up another stair were the family’s sleeping quarters. Another stair led to several workspaces, small labs and personal studies for family members. Tommy strolled back down to the main level where he discovered a door that led out to a contained balcony. It gave him a grand view of the entire settlement’s cavern and the valley floor. The balcony was enclosed lest, in the low gravity of the planetoid, someone should bounce away over the edge and fall.

He was returning to the main floor when he saw Agnes standing in front of a door in the family sleeping wing. As he approached her, she seemed in a trance. “Hey,” he said as he gently touched her shoulder. A wave of pain crossed her face when this broke her away from her trance, and she turned to Tommy. “Woe, are you okay?” he asked, taking a firmer hold of her arm to steady her.

“What? Oh, I’m alright,” she lied. “Just tired from our trek down here.” They sat down on a step.

“What were you doing, staring at that door?” Tommy asked.

“I don’t know. I just found myself standing there.” She paused in thought. “Marcus! Please interact.” She stated to the air with authority, like she had said this many times.

“Yes Mistress? How may I serve you?” was the response from the air about them.

“I’ve suffered an injury and need some help,” she explained. “Which room was mine?”

Lights flashed near the door where Agnes had been standing. “Thank you. Please open the door.” The door now slid open. “Thank you very much, Marcus.”

“You are very welcome, Mistress. If I can be of any service, you have only to ask,” Marcus’ disembodied voice intoned from near the open door.

“Shall we take a look at my childhood?” Agnes asked, as much to distract from her pain as to satisfy her own curiosity.

It was dark in the room. “Marcus. Lights please,” Agnes requested. It remained dark in the room. “Please report, Marcus.”

Marcus’ voice still came from outside the room in the hall. “Mistress, there appears to be a malfunction in the power to this wing. I am running diagnostics now.”

Tommy shone a light from his suit into the room. As he panned, the beam exposed a fairly typical teen’s bedroom. There were posters on the wall of various musicians and performers from Agnes’ era. A workstation and screen took up most of one wall. And there were stuffed animals lovingly put on display in a corner. A neatly made bed occupied the center of one wall. Tommy guessed that that was Marcus more than Agnes. Her quarters aboard the Swift were often a mess.

Agnes had her light out as well. Even though she was in pain, she now had an immediate problem to solve. Without thinking, she moved quickly to the stuffed animals in the corner. Pulling them off the shelves, she exposed an access panel. With the tools she always carried in her suit pockets, she pried it open and examined the interior. “This all looks to be in good condition,” she announced. “There shouldn’t be any reason for the power to be out here.”

She leaned her head deeper into the access panel and dug around with her tools. From the access panel, Tommy heard her muffled voice as she talked herself through the procedure. “Just need to pull this lead and cross that wire. Now, I’ll reinitiate Marcus actuator in this junction. And, voila!” Pools of soft light warmed the room.

“Congratulations,” Tommy cheered from across the room. Not only had the lights come on, the workstation screen had activated.

“Just an old trick to bypass parental controls,” Agnes absently stated as she pulled her head out of the panel and looked around for the first time. “I used to do it all the time….” She trailed off as she realized that she really had no memory of ever doing that before. She sat down on her bed as a wave of dizziness took hold of her.

“Agnes?” Tommy knelt to her side to support her.

“It’s nothing. Just muscle memory I guess,” Agnes said, hoping she was covering her condition. As a distraction, she asked into the air, “Marcus, can we set up access to your systems for Thomas Judson?”

“Indeed. What level of access do you require?” said the voice now coming from the workstation screen.

“Full access, please.”

“I’m sorry, but you do not have clearance for full access and cannot initiate that for another,” Marcus announced with subtle authority.

“All right, how about the same access level I have?” she asked.

“Granted. Please follow the procedures on the screen to open your account, Thomas Judson.”

The screen filled with instructions written in block letters, and the picture of a Roman general had appeared standing on the side. Tommy examined that image of the man with his sword drawn. Marcus was not only butler but also protector of the family. “Pleased to meet you, Marcus.” He followed the instructions and set up his access.

During this, Agnes took a moment to lie back on the bed and close her eyes. She pondered their next move. When she opened her eyes she noticed a touch pad next to the bed on a stand. Touching the screen, she activated it. Again, the Roman general appeared with sword drawn, requesting she identify herself for access. Her name got her into a menu. From there, she explored past mail and community notices.

When she touched a work icon, she was challenged again with the image of Marcus. The text read creatively, None shall pass here without the song of childhood joy. Agnes’ headache was growing worse. Since she had reawakened on the Swift, she had solved every roadblock by humming, “Ta dum, ta dum, ta dum te dah tum.” And then it fit. She sang aloud, “Pop goes the weasel.” The screen promptly responded with Access Granted. She was in.

Agnes explored her own notes on many projects and the internal mail from her father’s company. She began to form a picture of her responsibilities. “Tommy. It looks like I did more than just research. I was running a whole branch of the company. And according to these financial records, it was the most profitable part of the company.”

Tommy had completed the system application and was now logged into Marcus’ systems. “Marcus, copy all files to this station, please.” Tommy reviewed memos and schematics in a haphazard manner. “There is too much here. We need to filter it. Do you even know what we’re looking for?”

“Right now I think we should focus on any information about the caskets and the media units,” Agnes replied. She tried to hide the throbbing pain building in her head. “This pad and that station aren’t going to be able to process what we need. We need an interface that Alfred can handle. Marcus, where is my father’s study?”

Immediately, a floor plan of the apartment displayed on the workstation screen with a blue line starting in Agnes’ bedroom and terminating in the largest room in the next wing of the penthouse. Agnes quickly led the way, so she had her back to Tommy and he couldn’t see the tears in her eyes as her pain rose. She wiped the tears away as she and Tommy entered the study. They found a comfortably furnished room with a reading nook in one corner and a large drafting and design area. Light streamed in through an exterior window where there was almost as good a view of the settlement cavern as from the balcony. In the center of the room was a large ornate desk equipped with multiple interface terminals. On the side of the desk was the carving of the same Roman general. “Marcus, I presume,” Agnes said, trying to lighten her mood. The desk must be the central processing unit for the house Ai Marcus.

“It’s a Partners Desk,” Tommy observed. There were two sides, each with a chair and workstation. There were also, upon close examination, biometric sensors in place within the surface of each workstation. “Looks like it takes two to have full access to this station.” Tommy sat down at one station. The screen glowed with the Zephyr Company Logo. The username Agnes Zephyr waited in the same font for a password. “This must be your station,” Tommy said, standing and moving to the other side. There, he found the same logo, but this one said Caesar Zephyr MD. “This station is requiring your father’s access.”

Agnes signaled to Alfred and Dr. Ann. “Could you both join us? We need your help.” She logged into her single terminal. “I’ve only got as much access here as I did in my room.” She grimaced and couldn’t hide her pain from Tommy any longer. He gave her a stern questioning look to which she answered, “Just a headache. Probably dehydrated. I’ll get Dr. Ann to give me something for the pain. Let’s keep going.”

Tommy nodded at her, but now kept a closer eye on her as she turned pale. “Try to log in on that station, Tommy,” Agnes said. Here, like Agnes, Tommy could log in but had no further access than before. “This is a master station, we should have more access to Marcus’ systems.” Now she addressed Marcus directly, “Marcus, help menu, master system access set up.”

“Yes, mistress.” The help menu appeared on both screens with the image of Marcus always vigilantly guarding the system.

“I was afraid of this. The system setup shows that my father and I set this up for two biometric and audio interfaces for full access,” Agnes explained. “This is a great way to keep business secrets and data out of the hands of rival companies.” With that last sentence, Agnes passed out and began to fall to the floor. Tommy could not get across the desk fast enough to catch her. As her head bounced off the station screen, her body fell out of her chair. Alfred and Dr. Ann’s avatars had just entered the room when Dr. Ann’s avatar caught her and sat her gently on the floor.

Agnes moaned from the floor. Her eyes blinked open as Tommy knelt beside her. “There must be a way,” she whispered through her delirium. Then she rolled over and vomited on Tommy. “Oh, sorry,” she sighed as her eyes rolled up in her head. Agnes’ body shook violently.

“She’s gone into a seizure,” Dr. Ann pronounced and Tommy felt totally helpless as Agnes collapsed into unconsciousness.