Episode 272: The Unexpected Guest

Happy New Year.

"No, everything looks perfectly normal. I can’t find any packet loss or signal noise, but..."

The researcher—one of the few at Big Egg with a brain specifically wired for network architecture—stared at his consoles with a look of utter bewilderment. He used a local BISHOP to visualize the data stream, then gave a helpless shrug. "It’s exactly what you see here, sir."

"Ah, yeah. Huh. You’re right, looks pretty standard."

The graphs and charts were helpfully color-coded to highlight anomalies, and as far as Teiro could tell, the whole thing was a sea of green. He poked around the local, sector-wide, and neural layers just to be sure, but found absolutely nothing out of place. He glanced over his shoulder at Etta, who was currently staring blankly into the middle distance.

"Hmm. Look, sorry to be a pain, but could you do a deep dive? Check every weird possibility you can think of. This girl is the one who flagged it, and she’s... well, she’s special. I trust her gut."

He wasn't about to go around advertising that Etta was a Sonarman, not even to his own employees. The fact that she had a "daily sleep requirement" was a tactical weakness he wanted to keep under wraps as long as possible.

"Don't apologize, sir! You’re the President. If you want a deep dive, you get a deep dive. I'll get right on it. Should I spin up a full countermeasure team?"

"I'd usually leave that to Alan... but he’s out of the office. Actually, let's not get carried away yet. Just run a thorough screening and see what pops."

"Understood. I’ll start digging into the sub-layer data—"

"Not that way, Teiro. You're looking in the wrong place," Etta muttered, her voice barely a whisper.

Teiro, the researcher, and Koume—who was currently dangling from Teiro’s belt—all pivoted to look at her.

"The one I always use is over here," she said, waving her hands vaguely toward the ceiling. "Not that one. This one."

Teiro ignored the researcher’s confused expression. "Are we talking about 'that' thing?" he asked. The "Information Disorder" had been a chronic pain in their collective backsides lately.

"I don't know. But it’s different. It’s weird. I’ve almost never seen this color before. And it’s everywhere. Just... everywhere."

Teiro’s face hardened. Vague or not, when Etta got the creeps, it usually meant something was about to explode. He looked down at Koume, who was swaying rhythmically on her cable. "Thoughts?"

"MY APOLOGIES, MR. TEIRO. AT THIS JUNCTURE, THE PHENOMENON REMAINS UNIDENTIFIED. HOWEVER, GIVEN MISS ETTA’S TRACK RECORD, IGNORING THIS WOULD BE UNWISE. PERHAPS WE SHOULD SUMMON MR. ALAN?"

Alan, the head of the Intelligence Department, was their resident tech wizard. Teiro had currently stationed him at the Delta Star System branch to investigate the Information Disorder full-time. Teiro weighed the options, winced, and then threw his hands up.

"Fine. Every other corporation in the galaxy is probably breathing down the neck of the Information Disorder anyway. If it gets truly apocalyptic, I’m sure Dean will send a memo... or at least, I hope he will. Either way, get Alan back here. He and Etta need to put their heads together."

Teiro felt a pang of uncertainty mentioning the General. He hadn't been able to get a hold of the man in weeks.

Koume’s status lamp flickered. "UNDERSTOOD. IN THAT CASE—" She suddenly went dead silent.

"...Hello? You still there? Look, if we put him on a priority shuttle, he should get the message by tomorrow. That puts him back here in, what, three days?"

The network blackouts meant they were back to the stone age—literally flying physical data around. Teiro started counting the days on his fingers.

"NEGATIVE, MR. TEIRO. IT WILL NOT TAKE THAT LONG. I CALCULATE THAT THE TOP-LEVEL MEETING OF THE ALL-GALAXY VIRGIN UNION CAN CONVENE IN EXACTLY EIGHT HOURS."

"Huh?" Teiro blinked.

Koume continued without missing a beat. "I HAVE ESTABLISHED DIRECT COMMUNICATION WITH MR. ALAN. HE IS CURRENTLY COMMENCING A LONG-DISTANCE JUMP FROM THE ALPHA STAR SYSTEM. IT APPEARS HE DEPARTED SOME TIME AGO. HE INDICATED THIS WOULD BE HIS FINAL TRANSMISSION, SUGGESTING A HIGHLY CLANDESTINE TRANSIT. WE MUST HURRY, MR. TEIRO. GIVEN THE COORDINATES PROVIDED, WE ARE RUNNING OUT OF TIME."

Koume began spinning wildly at the end of her wire. Teiro’s eyes went wide. He scooped Etta up under his arm like a football and bolted for the hangar.

"Yo, General! Sorry for the rush job. Must've been a tight squeeze getting here from Rome, huh?"

Alan stepped off the umbilical gangway with a casual wave and a grin. Teiro, waiting on the deck of the Battleship Plum, mirrored the gesture.

"You bet it was. So... who's the plus-one?" Teiro asked, nodding toward the shadow trailing behind Alan. The figure was draped in a nondescript hooded robe that covered them from head to toe. From this angle, the only thing Teiro could see was a slightly stubborn-looking chin. It was probably a guy.

"Not here," Alan said, his tone turning serious. "Let's get to the Bridge. Is the whole gang here?"

"Nah," Teiro shook his head.

The three of them ducked into the "Adaptation Area"—a cramped transition corridor—and hunkered down as the artificial gravity began to crank up.

"Lyza’s playing bodyguard for the Princess, and Bella is currently busy putting out fires elsewhere. Every company in the sector is acting like a cornered animal; we have to keep showing our teeth just so they don't try anything stupid."

"Figures. So just the kid, Koume, and Phantom? That’ll do. The core systems are a mess anyway. Total chaos everywhere you look. It’s not quite 'end of the world' bad yet, but it’s definitely 'stop laughing' bad."

"So, business as usual then."

The two of them traded updates as they navigated the ship. The silent guest followed behind, head swiveling as if taking notes on the interior design. They hopped into a Mobile Vehicle on the high-speed lane and punched in the direct route to the Bridge—a path reserved for the elite and the suicidal.

"Oh, right. Etta’s on the Bridge too," Teiro added, grimacing as the vehicle’s acceleration tried to flatten his face. "I’ve got something weird I need you to look at later."

Alan, sporting a similarly squashed expression, managed a grunt. "Got it."

The vehicle suddenly slammed on the brakes. The seats rotated 180 degrees to handle the deceleration, nearly tossing them into the dashboard.

"The brat and me? Must be a network thing. I can probably help with that... But hey, what’s with the cold shoulder? I haven't been home in forever and the General is the only one who comes to meet me? You getting shy on me?"

"Ah... yeah. Let’s go with that. It's better for your ego."

"Ouch. Be careful with those 'facts,' Boss. They tend to sting."

They stepped out of the vehicle and stood before the final bulkhead of the Bridge. The security scanners hummed, performing instant retinal and brainwave scans. The heavy doors hissed open. Teiro started to walk through out of habit, then froze. His brain finally caught up with what had just happened.

"Wait... HUH?!" he yelled.

"Easy, Boss," Alan whispered, putting a finger to his lips and looking pained. "Save it for inside. Like I said, it’s a secret."

Teiro clamped his hand over his mouth and nodded frantically. The Plum’s security was ironclad; guests had to be manually whitelisted in advance, or the doors wouldn't budge. The fact that the bulkhead had just opened automatically for the robed man meant the ship already knew exactly who he was.

Don't give me a heart attack like that. I was hoping to live long enough to retire, Teiro grumbled internally.

Once the bulkhead hissed shut behind them, Alan let out a breath and smirked. "Hey, don't look at me. It wasn't my idea." He led the way through the sliding doors onto the main Bridge.

"About time, Alan," Marl said, lounging in her chair. "I assume this sudden summons means the metaphorical hits the fan?"

Koume was standing nearby in her android body, holding a tablet while Etta hovered over her shoulder. Phantom was nowhere to be seen, but Teiro knew better than to think he wasn't there. He turned to the robed man.

"It’s okay, guys. He’s one of ours," Teiro announced.

Behind the robed man, Phantom—who had somehow already manifested in the man's shadow—nodded once and took his hand off his weapon. The guest gave a derisive snort, didn't even bother to look back, and marched straight to the center of the room. He plopped himself down right in the Captain’s Seat.

"Not a bad view, though it lacks a certain... elegance. Ah, should I have asked for permission first, Captain?" the man asked mischievously.

Teiro rolled his eyes and slumped into a nearby spare seat. "Eh, knock yourself out. I don't mind." He leaned forward, his expression turning sharp. "But since you’re here, you’d better be ready for a million questions. I’m clueless, I’m annoyed, and I’m definitely not letting you leave until I’m satisfied. Right, Dean?"

I swear, I want to telework for the rest of my life.