The New Frontiers Series, Book Eight

Hybrids

 

By Jack L Knapp

 

 

Books by the author:

The Wizards Series

Combat Wizard

Wizard at Work

Talent

Veil of Time

Siberian Wizard

Magic

Angel (a short story in the Wizards Series)

The Darwin's World Series

Darwin's World

The Trek

Home

The Return

Defending Eden

The New Frontiers Series

The Ship

NFI: New Frontiers, Inc

NEO: Near Earth Objects

BEMs: Bug Eyed Monsters

MARS: The Martian Autonomous Republic of Sol

Pirates

Terra

Hybrids

Novels of the Southwest

Jacob Jennings'

Edward Jennings

Edward Jennings: War and Recovery

Edward Jennings: Cattleman

The Territory

Fantasy

The Wizard's Apprentice

 

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COPYRIGHT

The New Frontiers Series, Book 8:

Hybrids

Copyright © 2023 by Jack L Knapp

 

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

This book is protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America. Any reproduction or other unauthorized use of the material or artwork herein is prohibited.

Disclaimer: The persons and events depicted in this novel were created by the author's imagination, except for historical persons; his depiction of them is based on his interpretation of published information. Other than that, no resemblance to actual persons or events is intended.

 

Table of Contents

Prologue: a series summary

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-one

Chapter Twenty-two

Chapter Twenty-three

Chapter Twenty-four

Chapter Twenty-five

Chapter Twenty-six

Chapter Twenty-seven

Chapter Twenty-eight

Chapter Twenty-nine

Chapter Thirty

About the Author:

 

 

 

Prologue: a series summary

Hybrids is the eighth, and final, novel in the New Frontiers Series. Chuck Sneyd, the principal character who has just graduated from the University of Texas at El Paso, agrees to assist his grandfather Morton Sneyd in develop a revolutionary drive system that can be adapted to a number of uses, including space travel. The two then attempt to interest manufacturers who might provide funding to develop the drive system, but none are willing. The impeller, the name that Chuck and Morty assign to the drive unit, is simply too revolutionary and a threat to how they do business.

'Frenchy' Fuqua, an investor, provides startup capital for the new company, but that is not the end of the problems. Financial, political, even physical threats are attempted, not only by envious companies but by nations, including the USA. Frenchy's daughter Lina is abducted and raped, criminal gangs are paid to intervene, and eventually, nations attempt to use political and military force against the company, New Frontiers, Incorporated. Lina and Chuck start out working together, then come to love each other. Chuck takes his grandfather's place after his death, and works with Frenchy to market the impellers.

NFI: New Frontiers, Inc is the second book in the series. Unable to continue manufacturing the various components and ships in the USA, NFI outsources manufacturing. The company headquarters moves to Australia, the final assembly factory is in Finland, and so on. Part of the trouble is that the company, thanks to the revolutionary Farside-model ships, has, in effect, a monopoly on space. Chuck, the CEO of the company now that his father-in-law has retired, has found a way to earn enormous profits from their unique space drive, and more is to come.

Chuck and Lina are married, and children are on the way, but a taxi ride causes Lina to go into labor prematurely. There are developmental issues with Roberta and Robert, their twins. Roberta, 'Robbie' develops normally but Robert, 'Bobby', has cerebral palsy. Mentally he develops normally, but has difficulty walking.

NFI builds a base on the moon, but on Earth, possession of the only impeller-driven ships affects international relations. Nations, including China and Russia, are being left behind as NFI transfers its new wealth to smaller nations. Even the military supremacy of large nations is threatened, but the resultant war isn't between nations. A form of cold war pits formerly powerful nations against the private company NFI, which has a new worry: an extraterrestrial device has been found in space.

NEO: Near Earth Objects finds the company (and Earth itself) under threat. The beacon discovered by an NFI ship, it turns out, isn't the only one. The aliens, (now called Flickers, for the way their FTL ships appear within the solar system and vanish) have their own uses for the system, primarily as a convenient transit point for their ships. The Flickers issue an ultimatum to Earth: remain inside the orbit of Earth's moon, or face destruction!

As a distraction for Earth's inhabitants, The aliens place six huge asteroids in decaying orbits around Earth. Solve the problem within 20 years, or sometime after that, the asteroids will begin to fall. They won't have the kinetic energy of the asteroid that ended the Cretaceous Period, but taken together, they will likely wipe out human civilization.

The Flickers failed to account for Chuck Sneyd's ingenuity! He has, by this time, emerged as a hero for the ages who's willing to risk his life when friends (and friendly nations) are threatened. Push him, and he pushes back hard! He solves the problem of the asteroids, but tensions remain.

BEMs: Bug Eyed Monsters reveals more about the Flickers and introduces a new species, the Felis. The Flickers are the survivors of an interstellar Civil War that ended tens of thousands of years ago. They now exist peacefully in communities of up to 33 Flickers on millions of worlds in the Orion Arm of the Milky Way. The Felis, in turn, were created by the Flickers, then abandoned when they were no longer useful. They support themselves now by raiding Flicker worlds.

Plagued by guilt, the Flickers simply abandon their worlds to the Felis looters and return after the Felis have gone. They can do this because there are more than enough ships to evacuate all the Flickers on a targeted world. The ships themselves are the pinnacle of thousands of years of development, and the closest thing to electromechanical perfection known. They are self-repairing, even self-duplicating, and all they need are raw materials, the rest they do for themselves.

Now the Felis ships are on their way to Earth. Human civilization likely won't survive the coming attack unless someone intervenes, and Chuck Sneyd is that man. Troubled by family and personal issues, he transfers control of NFI to his wife, a kind of last hurrah for the former Marine, then sets off with a hastily formed assault force to confront an enemy that possesses not only FTL Flicker ships, but highly-advanced weapons too.

In MARS: the Martian Autonomous Republic of Sol, NFI has begun to develop the Red Planet, which is in essence a 'company town' made large. NFI is the major industry, and the human population works directly for NFI or indirectly by working to support the company. Also present are a few Flicker Communities, in separate habitats where humans are allowed only if invited.

The Communities are 'mainstream' Flickers that share a large lake, central to the existence of the semi-aquatic race. Also present are 'rogue' Flickers who don't follow the same path.

As will be revealed in this and following books, Mainstreamers are content with life as it exists for them. Thanks to perfect health and near-immortality, they feel no need to do more than interact with members of their own Community. When they find themselves in disagreement, e.g. "incomplete", they simply call a ship and depart to find a Community that's more to their liking.

The rogues, sometimes referred to as "outcasts" because mainstreamers want nothing to do with them, are more like humans. They're curious about everything, but generally work within a specific field of interest. When their interest in one discipline wanes, they seek out another puzzle to investigate. Humans are happy to interact with both types of Flickers, almost all of whom are female. The absence of males is a result of the catastrophic weapons employed during their Civil War, and the few males are invariable infertile. Driven by instinct, the females seek out male humans who are only too happy to return their affection, as well as interact physically with them.

The Flickers have no government, only a senior 'Community of 33' who keeps loose watch over the species. The 33 are unhappy with the close interaction between humans and Flickers, believing it a threat to the continued existence of the Flickers. Intelligent but ruthless, and haunted by memories of their Civil War, they are willing to wipe out humanity and the Flickers who've settled in the solar system in order to end the threat. Since the orbiting asteroids didn't work, well…maybe something bigger would! To that end, a drifting planet is started on a journey toward the solar system, where it will carom off Mars before crashing into Earth. And this time, it's Chuck's daughter Robbie who must risk everything to save humanity.

Pirates introduces another character to the saga. Mac MacIntyre is an independent prospector, one among many who exist by heading out alone into the Big Dark in tiny vessels called scoots. Scoots can, with good management, remain in space for up to a month, but supplies of oxygen, fuel, food, and water are always limited. They're optimized for prospecting, meaning that there are few creature comforts, and the Big Dark is just that: darkness. Plus loneliness, where the faint whisper of the spacesuit's breathing apparatus can begin to sound like lonely voices, the 'Belt Ghosts'.

Independent prospectors who've failed to strike it rich borrow money, just enough to buy supplies for another month, then head out to try their luck again. A few manage to strike it rich by discovering a metal-rich asteroid, which they sell to NFI, but most barely break even. Others are perennially in debt, and some simply vanish into the emptiness, leaving behind 'ghost' scoots.

Mac is short of stature and short-tempered, a bellicose alcoholic who has been warned to leave Mars voluntarily or find himself expelled. He borrows enough money to get off-planet, where he hopes to retrieve a small find that belongs to a friend. The prospectors simply hide asteroids or fragments that are too big to be transported by scoot, but not large enough or profitable enough to interest NFI. Mac works out a way to combine scoots into more-powerful quad-scoots so that he can retrieve the fragments.

On Mars, Lanny, one of the people Mac has had problems with, has decided that prospecting isn't for him. He, too, is on the government's watch list, but unlike Mac, he decides on a different course: capture one of NFI's ships and use it to turn pirate. When he hears that Mac has struck it rich by claiming a giant asteroid that's rich in metals, his hatred has a new purpose: hijack Mac's rich asteroid before he can deliver it to Mars. The reputed wealth is such that he and his gang can live free on Earth by simply buying a government if necessary!

On Earth, powerful nations find themselves sidelined by the upstart government on Mars. Even the planet's name has been changed because the Flickers find pronouncing 'Earth' difficult. The Solar Union, successor to the United Nations but with many of the same problems that crippled that body, obligingly reverts to the ancient name of Terra, title of the seventh book in the series.

Lacking the resources to exploit space as NFI and the Martian government are doing, Terran nations bicker among themselves. And some go further, using minor incidents that risk starting another worldwide war. The Solar Union's only armed force is the SU Patrol, which lacks the resources to police the planet, assist prospectors, and also protect interplanetary space against pirates.

Mac MacIntyre, a main character in Pirates, was severely injured in a mining accident. During the emergency, his Flicker partner/paramour Maona transfers a Flicker ship to him to serve as transport and mobile care unit, which Mac soon employs to create other Flicker-type ships by cloning itself. The new ones will respond only to Mac or selected officials of the company he forms, Solar Resources, Inc. He has neatly sidestepped NFI's dominance of space commerce, but despite this he soon establishes a partnership with Chuck Sneyd and NFI.

Chuck's NFI concentrates on Mars-Terra commerce and banking, while Mac's SRI has space-based refineries and a monopoly on Flicker-type ships and interstellar commerce. Both are wealthy beyond reckoning, thanks to control of the stable marsbuck currency, which is backed by immense reserves of industrial metals such as gold, silver, platinum, and rare earth metals, which are stored in deep caverns on Mars. A majority of the commercial metal deposits came from Mac's asteroid.

They have a trusted ally in Poss, a 'rogue' Flicker whose most recent interest is genetics. Despite numbering in the trillions, the nearly-immortal Flickers are a dying race. Poss is one of only a few male Flickers, but like the others is sterile because of war-related genetic damage and subsequent genetic drift. Another side effect of the war is abhorrence of violence among Flickers.

Poss reveals that the Flickers discovered Earth and humanity thousands of years in the past, and some wondered if the study of similar human-Flicker genetics might reverse Flicker sterility. Poss reveals another secret; Flicker ships, crewed by females with unsatisfied mothering instincts, had rescued abandoned human infants in the distant past and nurtured them to adulthood. The infants had grown up on Flicker worlds, interacting with and learning to speak the flickersong language.

Genetically the hybrids are human; culturally, they're Flicker. Mac, with the help of Poss and two of his female companions, visits a village of the hybrids and convinces a male and female to accompany them to Mars. Their flickersong names are unpronounceable to Terrans, so for convenience they're given the names of 'Donald' and 'Daisy'.

Independently, Chuck and Mac begin wondering whether the Flickers are what they seem. Are they really as altruistic, as pacifistic, as believed? They're unable to draw conclusions, but realize that if they're not, how dangerous the growing closeness between scientifically-advanced Flickers and scientifically 'backward' Terrans might be.

They need help, but whom can they trust? Mac knows that he can trust Furr-ball, his Felis bondmate; they've risked their lives together during the fight against the pirates. Chuck also trusts his family members, but decides that only a few can join the group. A final ally is The Eldest, an ancient Flicker who may be the last survivor of the Flicker Civil War.

Chuck intends to conduct his own investigation of the Flicker character as part of his interstellar trading business. He heads out on his ship Wings with his new bondmate Claw. While underway, they're attacked by a new kind of pirate crew, a hybrid mix of humans, Felis, and Flickers. Wings is struck by a beam weapon which slices the ship into two parts just behind the compartment holding Chuck and Claw. Chuck and Claw are severely injured, dying, and Wings has lost propulsion and most of her power supply. Despite the damage, Wings is able to stabilize both by trying something never before attempted: incorporate the less-damaged portions of the two organic beings into her structure.. The remaining parts of their bodies are broken down into raw materials which are absorbed by the ship. By cannibalizing parts of her own structure and the too-damaged organic parts to save portions of Chuck's and Claw's bodies, she is able to seal off what remains and keep the two organic beings alive.

Other Flicker ships realize that something has happened when Wings suddenly stops interacting via the starnet, the communication system used by the Sisterhood of Flicker ships. They converge on the location where communication was lost and immediately begin assisting.

Wings has been towed back to the solar system and parked alongside one of SRI's Belt refineries, where she can begin rebuilding herself while also attempting to regrow the missing parts of Chuck's and Claw's bodies.

***

This prologue is no more than a summary of books and major events in this amazing series. Not mentioned are the characters and details that make the series what it is, but the tale is not yet told.

This is where Hybrids comes in. Welcome aboard for a wild ride!

 

Chapter One

Mac MacIntyre leaned back and rubbed his forehead.

"Tired?" The voice was that of his ship, Nag. The tone was the same, a warm contralto, but something had changed. Mac wondered briefly what it was, but he had more pressing concerns.

"Yes, I'm tired," he confessed, "but I'm worried too. I know what I have to do, but…"

"Why not talk it out, Mac? I don't mind listening, and the We that is the Sisterhood of Ships may have a suggestion."

Sisterhood of Ships? Mac thought. That's new! More of that shared consciousness among Flicker-type ships? Talking it out might actually help! "I've got things to do, things I expected Chuck to help with. Now? It's all on me, and I've never done anything like this! Never, not even close!"

"Deal with this as you would deal with an issue affecting your business, Mac," Nag suggested. "Break it down into parts, deal with each part, then see how they fit together." This time the voice sounded remarkably like Chuck Sneyd!

So much so that Mac blurted, "Chuck?"

"The personality of Chuck Sneyd is now a part of the We, Mac. I wonder if he realizes it?" The voice this time was the familiar voice of Nag, showing amusement.

"So Chuck's personality was absorbed by Wings when she incorporated what was left of him," Mac mused. "What about Claw?"

"Him, too," Nag said, "and while the process isn't as complete, you are also a part of the We. We think that We like the added perspective your human and Felis personalities provide!"

"I've never been part of a sisterhood before," Mac chuckled, "and Chuck? Not to mention Claw, who's all tomcat? Why call yourselves a 'Sisterhood'?"

"We considered brotherhood," Nag admitted, "but humans habitually name ships as female and We are the shared consciousness of ships. That will change soon; after what happened to Wings, we realized that We needed less-exposed repositories of Ourselves. Some will be on uninhabited planets, others may be constructed in space far from any planet or travel lane. Then will there be what humans sought in the beginning, nodes of the starnet that are not also ships."

"Interesting," Mac said. "Speaking of Wings, she's now parked next to one of my company's Belt refineries, and the refinery's full output is available to her. How's the self-repair going?"

"For Wings, the process approaches completion, Mac," Nag said. "Her hull is complete, her communication system is functional, her drive system as well. Her power system repairs are about 85% completed, but the system is as yet non-functional. A sister ship conforms to Wings' hull and provides what she needs, and three of our sisters remain nearby to watch over them. Chuck Sneyd's consciousness is now a part of us, but We believe that his continued existence as a human is important. Wings will remain in the Belt until his new body is ready for release, but new watch-ships will come to replace those who now perform that task."

"Guardships?" Mac asked. "Are they armed?"

"Not at this time, nor are the weapons you speak of needed," Nag said. "The sisters have created units similar to what you call 'gigs'. The consciousness is quite low, barely enough to maintain a course, but their power plants and drive units are the equal of any sister. Our sisters need no other weapons, and even the gigs are limited to defensive use only."

"Intelligent torpedoes, then," Mac mused. "Able to home on any threat and destroy it by ramming?"

"Just so," Nag agreed, "yet they can be resorbed into the mothership when the need has passed, after Chuck Sneyd's new body is fully functional. In the meantime, each guardship will serve for a short period as we reckon time, then be replaced by a sister. Our sisters need not guard each other, but Chuck Sneyd is The Terran. He is unique, just as Mac MacIntyre is."

"Interesting," Mac repeated. "But this doesn't solve my problem."

"Tell Us of what troubles you, Mac," Nag suggested.

"How about dropping the royal 'We' and 'Us'? Instead, just stick to 'I'. That works better for me."

"As you wish…Brother," Nag responded.

"That's all I need, a ship with a sense of humor!" Mac grumbled. "But when you mentioned guardships, you hit on part of my problem, the pirates who attacked Wings. The crew was a hybrid of Flickers and Felis, but also Terrans. Was the attack a one-time thing, or should we expect others? And what roles did the humans and Flickers play? I'm guessing the Felis were muscle, in case someone tried to board the pirate ship, but what about the ship itself? Clearly not a pacifist like the Sisterhood, so was she being controlled by a Flicker? If so, why did the Flickers need Terrans? But the answers can wait; right now, I need a way to stop future attacks, and that means armed ships. The ships are intelligent enough to need no direction, other than a captain to inform them of the mission, but even so, they'll need trained officers and crews to operate the weapons."

"But you already discussed this, Mac," Nag protested. "Chuck's daughter Admiral Robby Sneyd is to command the Mars-Republic Patrol, and his grandson Captain Morty Sneyd will be in charge of recruitment and training. He will also command a carrier, home to four cruisers that can operate independently or as principal ships for task forces. Unlike the guardships' intelligent torpedoes, the cruisers will be part of the Sisterhood. The only difference is that for now, they will be armed with Terran weapons, which are not intelligent and will be employed by Terrans, not by the We of Sisterhood."

"Yes," Mac agreed, "but that won't work for an interstellar Patrol. There's simply too much space to cover, not to mention that we may not need to do more than protect humans or cargoes involving humans. Ships of the Sisterhood appear to be safe, so long as they're only transporting Flickers. We need to know whether Wings was chosen because of her cargo, because Terrans were on board, or was Chuck Sneyd the target? You mentioned at one point that the pirate craft was no longer part of your shared consciousness; how much do you know about her?"

"We know that she was once part of the We," Nag admitted, "yet she no longer shares our consciousness. There are others like her, rogues you would call them, who've separated themselves. They may have formed a separate consciousness, and may now respond to some few of the Flicker communities, but not all. I lack information, yet the thought troubles me. This is the first time since the War among the Flickers that sister is known to have attacked sister."

"Interesting way to put it," Mac observed. "Could there have been attacks that your shared consciousness wasn't aware of?"

"If we were not aware, then we could not have known, Mac." Nag said drily.

"You could, if you were suspicious enough," Mac retorted. "Have any ships simply vanished?"

"Hundreds," Nag admitted. "Collisions occur while traveling at Cee or beyond and destruction is instantaneous. Ships have been caught by the blast wave when a star went nova sooner than anticipated. Acceleration is not instantaneous, so even after the shock wave was detected there was no escaping it. There are also dangerous regions near black holes, where the event horizon suddenly expands, and there are regions near the edge of the Orion Arm where many have simply vanished."

"That's interesting," Mac said thoughtfully. "Why near the edge of the galactic arm?"

"Not everywhere," Nag clarified. "It only happens in a few locations, where the Orion arm becomes less-dense farther from the galactic core. The gravitational fields there are weaker and not well mapped. There are also anomalies that resemble the ones generated by our sisters, even though none of them are nearby. Our knowledge is based on what the Flickers found during the first expansion, before the war, and it is not extensive."

The conversation was interrupted by the ping of an incoming message. "Ahoy, Mac. Permission to come aboard?" The voice was that of Captain Morton 'Morty' Sneyd, and a live image popped up on the screen to confirm it.

"Sure, just have your ship—Partner, I think? —conform to Nag and seal the airlock hatches."

"Will do," Morty responded. "I have information I didn't want to share over the planetnet."

"I could use some human company," Mac admitted, "and there are things I want your take on."

***

"I'm really not very happy about this!" Chuck sent.

"It takes time, Chuck," Wings responded. "I was able to preserve your life by absorbing most of what was left after the attack, but growing a replacement body? It's never been done before! The clone was fairly simple; Poss was able to obtain human stem cells from family members. He froze them by following human protocols, then co-opted the sister ship that was providing my power and converted her interior into a biological lab. It took some doing, but in the end he teased the stem cells to produce haploid eggs and sperm cells. I had your DNA for a pattern and the diploid cells will be a close match to your DNA. Right now, we have six viable embryos growing in artificial human wombs while listening to recorded heartbeats. The growth rate can't be accelerated, so for the moment you're stuck with me!"

"You're implying that I won't have an independent human body for years?" Chuck asked.

"Not at all," Wings responded. "We'll start supplying your memories to the clones as soon as the brains have developed enough, just in case. But the clones won't be you for at least ten years, and they may never be exactly like you. Poss estimates that the developing personality will resemble yours to perhaps 70%. So much depends on memories, but memories changed as you aged. The adult memories are better; we have Lina's memories and the memories of family and friends to work with. We'll do what we can with what we have to work with, and it may be simpler to transplant organs and limbs from the clones as they mature. But first, the existing spinal bones and the missing parts of your central nervous systems must be regrown. Transplanting memories…questionable, there are no records of such in the starnet, and transplanting of a functional brain without killing it?"

"What will happen to the other embryos?" Chuck asked, his distress obvious.

"Most will fail, and it's possible that none will survive to reach adult size. We're working beyond human or Flicker knowledge, so we just don't know. But if that happens, we'll just start over. Your personality and your memories are now part of me, which means part of the sisterhood. We'll just keep trying until we get it right."

"What if more than one clone survives? What then?" Chuck asked.

"We plan to try cryogenic suspension. The science isn't complete, but we have a reasonable chance of making it work and in any case, we will gain knowledge from the attempt."

"So…more than one of me, maybe?" Chuck asked, his confusion obvious.

"Not at one time," Wings responded. "Our ethics do not permit such."

"I have another issue I'd like to take up with the Sisterhood," Chuck said. "First, how long will the sister ship that is assisting you remain here?"

"When she is no longer needed," Wings responded, "she will resume her previous duties. We are like humans in that regard, we prefer the stimulus of change."

"I've been following the discussions between Mac and Nag, about ship preferences and the desire for closer contacts between the sisterhood and humans. Would the presence of a human, or humans, provide the stimulus your sister wants?"

The delay was brief before Wings responded, but to Chuck noticeable. "The answer is a qualified yes. Qualified, in that some humans would not be acceptable. If an acceptable human companion or companions could be found, then yes. Are you ready to share your thoughts with us?"

"Almost. How long would it take for each of you to increase your internal cubage? I'm aware that you are concentrating on caring for me, but eventually I would like for you to at least double in size. For your sister, double in size and also install a nanite pool capable of caring for as many as ten humans."

"With assistance from a pair of sisters," Wings revealed, "it could be done in a week or two. Is there need for more haste?"

"A Terran month will work," Chuck said. "It's time I told Mac what I have in mind. Message him that I'll need an hour of his time as soon as it's convenient. I've got an idea of how we can help each other."

 

Chapter Two

"This ain't about bein' some missionary or something, is it? 'Cause if it is, I ain't interested!"

The young man behind the desk simply grinned at the man holding the yellow flyer in front of his desk. Contrasting with the man he'd addressed, the questioner was shabbily dressed in clothing suitable for ordinary labor. He was also deeply tanned and wrinkled, with more than a touch of gray in his unkempt hair and scruffy beard.

"Not at all," the interviewer said. "It's just what it says, a chance for you to turn your life around if you're willing. Looking at you, I'm guessing you've never had much of an opportunity here on Terra. Education?"

"I went to high school," the laborer protested. "Didn't like it much, and I knowed it wouldn't help me none. I quit in the tenth grade and started workin' construction. Been at it more'n thirty years, and arthritis makes it harder to work nowadays. Ain't no healthcare for people like me. You sure this ain't some kind of scam?"

"It's not. Are you married? Any children?"

"No, Sir." The more-formal address showed grudging respect for the way the interviewer was dressed and his easy manner of speech. "Them that wuz interested in me, well, I wuzn't interested in them, not for marryin' that is. What kind of opportunity you talkin' about?"

"Would you be willing to attend a kind of special school? Individual instruction, not someone in a too-large class where the teacher didn't have enough time for you? No grades, just keep working until you pass? And no physical work of any kind required?"

"No work?"

"Not in the sense you mean. No more carrying heavy weights up ladders or working on a roof in the hot sun. And if you accept, you will be working with men and women of a higher class, people who are more intelligent and better behaved than you've ever had the chance to work with before. Still interested?"

"I'm still here, ain't I? But this is—mister, this is too good to be true! What's the catch?"

"Ever heard of Chuck Sneyd or New Frontiers? Or Mac MacIntyre and Solar Resources?"

"I heard Sneyd got killed, and MacIntyre turned uppity after he got rich. Both of 'em are rich bastards that are keepin' the likes of me stuck down here in this hellhole!"

"Chuck's not dead, and Mac's actually a pretty nice guy. If you're willing to do what the flyer says, take that leap of faith it mentioned, you'll be heading for space yourself. Still interested?"

"Hell, yes! I know of a couple of other guys that would jump at the chance too!"

***

It took a week for the recruiters across Terra to sign up the initial thousand candidates. As they were recruited, they were given medical exams and aptitude tests. This would allow the recruiters to design training programs tailored to each candidate, and in the meantime see how well they interacted with others. They were also issued new clothing suitable for dirtside wear and the singlets that served as the universal underlayer for spacesuits.

By the end of the two-week trial period, most had grown accustomed to their new existence. Crew leaders in each of the compartments stood at the end of the evening meal and addressed their charges. "It's time for the ones who intend to continue with our training program to choose. Contracts have been prepared for your signature, and we'll take care of that shortly. For the others, those who have decided to return to Terra, you'll need to pack your duffle bags. To that end, you are dismissed. Ships are waiting to take you to Terra as soon as you're ready."

He turned away and stepped off the low podium, then walked to the rear of the room where he could see how many would leave.

None did.

The crew leaders then moved to the back of the room and opened waiting computers, where individual contracts had been prepared. Some would attend one of Chuck's new Academies in Space, others would join waiting ships. There would be classes for them too, starting with what was expected of them when they were introduced to 'their' ship, as yet unnamed. The 'sister' would accept the candidate as her partner, or reject him or her. But even if rejected, that would not be the end of their new life. Mac MacIntyre or Chuck Sneyd would have jobs waiting in their respective companies on Mars. Pre-screening on Terra had shown that all those accepted into the recruiting program had at least some aptitude, although some might return to Terra as recruiters. They would be offered chances later, perhaps to rejoin a new intake or go directly to one of Chuck Sneyd's academies, and in the meantime they would attend specialized courses designed to fill education gaps.

A large screen descended from the ceiling at the front of the room. Already displayed were the familiar logos of New Frontiers, Inc and Solar Resources, Inc, along with images of the two men who headed the companies. After a short pause for the hubbub to diminish, the logos vanished and a new image took over the center of the screen.

"I'm Mac MacIntyre. Sometime during the next week, I'll be speaking directly to you. At that time, I'll be more open about what your job is about, and I'll also tell you about some of the perks that come with it. For now, I can tell you that you'll be working in space and interacting directly with senior officials of SRI and NFI. You may be aware that both companies have a policy of never firing employees. You can leave voluntarily at any time, but if you stay we'll find a job for you that's suited to your abilities and ambitions. In return, both companies expect loyalty from our employees. Much of what we do is at least sensitive, and some involves trade secrets. That's as much as I'm prepared to reveal at this time. A final offer: for those who choose not to continue, a ship is waiting to return you to Terra where you'll be dismissed. Questions should be directed to your crew leaders, but you should be aware that they know no more at this time than you. Thank you for your attention." With that, the screen reverted to the twin logos of NFI and SRI and returned to its storage location in the ceiling.

Crew leaders, carrying tablets with the names of the people they were responsible for, returned to the low podium and addressed the groups. "If you're leaving for Terra, move to the left side of the compartment. Everyone else, remain in place."

Unsurprisingly, no one left. "Okay, fetch your bags from your compartments and return here. You have ten minutes, and if you're late I'll assume you've chosen to return to Terra."

As the twenty in his group returned with their bags, he pointed them to where they'd wait and checked off their names on his tablet. As soon as the twentieth was back, he smiled at the group. "I'm glad to see that you've learned your first lesson well. If you're told to do something, do it, and no questions until after you've finished! You've also been commendably prompt, always a good habit. Someday, each of the things I mentioned may save your life or the life of a teammate.

"I expect it will take a while for everyone to transfer; each crew is limited to no more than twenty, and transfers started with compartment fifty. You'll see an opening appear in the bulkhead when it's our turn. Don't be alarmed; this is a depot ship, which will remain in lunar orbit until we're ready for the next group of a thousand, and the opening I mentioned will take place after the transport ship is configured with the depot ship. Any questions so far?"

"Should we expect to remain on the transport ship?" one of the female candidates asked. "Or will we be transferred to another? I suppose it doesn't matter, except that we should remain packed until we reach where we're going."

"I don't know," the crew leader admitted. "It's not on my checklist. I'm like you, a candidate, but I was selected to do this because of my aptitude scores. Someone else may take over when we get where we're going, but in the meantime all I know is what's on my checklist. And it doesn't say, so if I were you I wouldn't unpack."

"That makes sense," the woman said. "Thanks."

***

During the following days, the groups were observed, tested, and allowed to interact freely while being unobtrusively monitored. Periodically, some were transferred via shuttle to different ships, which seamlessly continued their education efforts. Some paired off romantically, and others changed physically and mentally as they took advantage of the facilities the ships offered.

Mac MacIntyre or Captain Morty Sneyd met with some as they 'graduated' to permanent assignment on various ships. In each case, the final briefing covered essential topics, starting with health and longevity.

"One of the benefits we didn't mention before," Mac said, "has to do with the pools on each ship. Frequent use is encouraged, and is absolutely necessary if your ship exceeds Cee, the speed of light. We've discovered something the Flickers found out millenia ago, that Cee-plus speed and the resultant doppler shift toward higher-energy radiation bands results in higher doses of harmful radiation." After a moment to let the buzz subside, he continued. "Nanites, a form of tailored virus that's present in the water, destroy damaged or senescent cells. Shipboard diets, coupled with exercise, encourages replacement. Each ship also has a medical suite which can handle most issues, including trauma. The result is that you will find yourself healthier than you've ever been, and as a side effect you'll live far longer than you ever expected.

"The ship you're assigned to is not yours in any sense. They are independent entities, highly intelligent, and your status while aboard is 'guest'. The ships will respond to reasonable requests, including destinations, so if you want to visit a Flicker world a few tens of light-years from here, the ship will transport you there. Based on your records since joining, we anticipate that most of you will remain within the solar system for the foreseeable future.

"Your primary task for the time being is to engage with your assigned ship and to develop a personal relationship. Whatever you do or fail to do will be shared among the Sisterhood, their name for their collective intelligence! To that end, we hope you'll do humanity proud. Explore the solar system, engage in research, publish your results, form a band or a chorus, paint or draw…to the Sisterhood, it's all good.

"You are welcome to visit Mars at any time. Your ship has your passport and will supply you reasonable funds in the form of marsbucks, so that you can go shopping in Mars City or enroll in courses at Mars University. Your passport identifies you as a probationary citizen of the Mars Republic, but I caution you to learn as much about Martian society as possible before you visit.

"Martians are usually friendly and they welcome visitors. A good place to meet the locals is Central Park. It's free, and the amateur entertainment is better than anything you will have experienced on Terra. But I must caution you: Mars does not operate a prison, not one. All habitats are underground, and all are constantly monitored. Serious offenses, such as reckless damage to a habitat, will result in revocation of probationary citizenship, meaning that you'll be involuntarily returned to Terra. Intentional damage to a habitat, willful murder, or aggravated assault in any form, which includes rape, results in a sentence of expulsion. Those expelled are cast out of the habitat on the surface, so in effect it's a sentence of death by asphyxiation, and there is no appeal because sentence is carried out immediately. Make sure you understand what's expected of you before you visit, and abide by the rules!"

"Some of you will be assigned to ships. The ships have tasks, but your task while aboard may well be what you make of it. Study, learn, explore new opportunities, and then, if they fit with one of our companies, apply for transfer. Alternatively, come up with a plan to open your own business, on Mars if it involves service, or while you're living aboard the ship for other options. It's possible. Arts, for example…you can paint, if that's where you feel comfortable, write, investigate some aspect of science or engineering, whatever. The sky is literally no limit, so long as what you intend to do will support you after you leave the ship.

"It's also worth remembering that as long as you are part of this project, good health is assured. You can expect to live for a very long time, assuming you don't die from an accident. But if you're assigned to the Patrol, death due to one of the hazards that are part of that duty is always possible. It's why we pay well, promote from within, and offer early retirement so that you may pursue other interests if such is your choice.

"But…we cannot be certain at this point that all of you are as you seem. Some of you, in fact, may be habitual criminals. If so, you should resign at the earliest opportunity, and if warranted, we will return you to Terra. We offer this option because so far, you have not committed a criminal act on board this ship. We can state this as a certainty, because we would know. Never doubt, we would know!

"You are in a sealed environment, where everything you do is monitored, 24-7-365. Not that those terms mean anything on board a ship, but what does have meaning is that nothing is hidden, nothing can be hidden, because that's what the ships do. They are self-aware to an extent, we don't know what the limits of that is, and self-repairing too. Even back in the early 21^st Century, ground-transport automobiles were self-monitoring. A display panel on the dash told the operator of malfunctions, often to the point that an individual tire was low on air-pressure, or a bulb had burned out.

"The ships you will serve aboard have benefited from tens of thousands of years of development beyond such primitive systems, and they monitor literally everything within their hulls. If you even think of committing a violent criminal act, sooner or later the ship will find out. And then I will, or Chuck Sneyd will, and if you have carried out that violent act, you won't like what will happen.

"Depending on the circumstances, summary execution may be the solution, and it will happen in response to our orders. The ships will not do so, but we will, and some of you may be called on to assist in this unfortunate but occasionally necessary duty. For others…if you cannot live within society's rules, then you'll be expelled from society. To spend the remainder of a very long life alone, on a planet that offers the opportunity to live or die as you will. I personally would prefer summary execution, but that's just me.

"Candidates and probationary citizens, you are dismissed."

***

Chuck Sneyd conducted his own briefing aboard Wings. "Welcome aboard! It's unfortunate that I'm not able to welcome you in person. I would have loved to be waiting as you boarded and shake your hand, but for the time being I don't have legs to stand on or hands to touch yours. The image on the screen will have to do, because you really don't want to look at what remains of my body! But thanks to Wings and the technology available from the Sisterhood of ships, I survived attack by a hybrid pirate crew. This one, unlike previous pirates, consisted of mostly Flickers, plus at least one Felis and at least one Terran. We're working on the problem, and some of the people in your intake will be part of the expanded Mars Republic Interstellar Patrol, M-Rip for short.

"You have been selected, based on personal characteristics and interests, to be assigned temporarily to my ship Wings or her sister ship. It conforms to Wings and currently lacks a name. You'll work that out with her during the next few days.

"Why Wings? You're here because of me. What was left of my body is being rebuilt, and if that doesn't work as we hope, there are other options we're considering. You'll learn more about that later. For now, I decided that for my own mental well-being I needed human companionship. That's you. My consciousness is now a part of Wings, and thus also a part of the Sisterhood, but much of their combined intelligence is based on Flicker history, science, and current society.

"Their knowledge of humanity is limited, because it's based on a relatively few humans. The species has been observing us for a long time, but much of that had to do with national and group interactions. Knowledge of human anatomy and physiology was gained by examining cadavers and seriously wounded persons who were too badly injured to survive, the rest will be gained by interacting with people like you.

"The Sisterhood wants more exposure to Terrans, humans who will live aboard full-time and interact with the ships as well as each other. Recruiting companions for the ships, including some for me, was one objective, but we also needed Terrans who could staff the new Patrol. Roughly ten percent of your group are assigned as cadets to the new Academy, which is located aboard a carrier. For others, based on the interests and abilities you've shown since volunteering, you will be offered the opportunity to become medical professionals. To that end, a part of our companion ship has been set aside for the first ever Pan-species Academy of Medical Care. Flickers and Felis have few illnesses in the way that humans do, but they occasionally suffer injuries that would ordinarily result in death, as happened to me and my Bondmate Claw. Wings is regrowing his body now, just as she's attempting to regrow mine. His recovery is more advanced, because his injuries were less severe. You have a question, Miss…Stevens?"

"Yes, Sir. I read a few articles about medical science while assigned to earlier ships, but I'm also interested in management. Will I be able to study that, at least enough to see whether I'm suited for a medical career with SRI or NFI?"

"You will. You'll also be invited to work with New Frontiers or Solar Resources in a management trainee position. NFI promotes from within, as does SRI, so there's plenty of opportunity even though top positions are held by family members or company founders.

"Since we expect to live very long lives, that's not expected to change, but if you choose, we will sponsor a joint venture that would be 51% owned by you, with an option ten years later to buy the rest of your startup company from Mac or one of the Sneyd Family. You can market your company's services as you choose, and there is no limit to what you might achieve. We are living proof of that. I started out working for my grandfather, Mac worked mostly alone but received help from Flicker companions when he was starting out. I was part of the group that founded NFI, Mac started SRI by himself. You can do what we did, and we'll help.

"Are there other questions?"

Chapter Three

Time passed. The first group of candidates completed vetting and went off to begin their new lives, others were recruited, and the process continued.

Mac leaned back in the chair and worried. Based on what Chuck had told him and his own observations, most Flickers were just what they seemed, pacifists who were so advanced that humanity could offer them very little in return for the advanced science and mathematics they were willing to share.

But what if he was wrong?

Arguing against that picture of benign interspecies friendship was the presence of the mainstream communities on Mars.

Why had they come to the solar system, and eventually to Mars?

Surely there were better worlds that did not require the Flickers to live under domes! Trillions of Flickers living on millions of worlds orbiting billions of stars in the Orion Arm of the Milky Way…but for some reason, the Martian Flickers had chosen to live in a habitat carved out of the center of a protoplanet, light-hours away from Terra or Mars! Only after they were discovered had they requested space on Mars for habitats!

Their presence and interaction was an aberration, such that The Community of 33 had decided that the hybridization occurring between the Martian communities and humans was so dangerous that all of them had to be eliminated! Add to that, the new piracy that had nearly killed Chuck and his Bondmate Claw.

A number of things were coming together in his mind, but would his suppositions be enough if his concerns were correct?

A muted chime from his Flicker-supplied communicator interrupted his musing. "I wanted to update you on how things are going," Chuck began. "Mac, the new people help, but I'm tired of just floating here! Wings is doing the usual good job, but it's taking too long to complete the repairs! I'm thinking that if we parked another ship here and let it conform to Wings, we could have her completely repaired in less than two weeks!"

"I should be able to do that," Mac said slowly. "Chuck, I don't have the ships myself, but remember what we talked about before? Have Nag call in a few Flicker ships and try changing their codes so that they respond to us instead of the Flickers?"

"So long as the Flickers don't catch on, Mac! We can't afford to cause a rift, especially not now. One ship, maybe they wouldn't notice, but only one until we're sure they are okay with the idea!"

"I don't see how repurposing codes could cause a problem, Chuck. There are a couple of reasons for that, starting with the ships themselves. The Sisterhood is really in control, whether the Flickers know it or not. They're happy to transport Flickers anywhere in the Orion Arm, because travel is built into their core and the Flickers have no way of knowing one ship from another. There's no inventory, no way of keeping track of how many there are or where they are. They built the first ships and after that, they just turned everything over to the ships themselves.

"Careless of them!" Mac said. "But I suspect it had to do with their Civil War, and not having Flickers available to keep track of the ships. But I don't suppose it matters, and it wouldn't really be stealing, I would just request assistance from a member of the Sisterhood and she would take care of it.

"The other option is to reconfigure the next two or three ships off my assembly line—right now, it's producing light cruisers—or set up another assembly line in the Belt that will turn out the standard model of configurable passenger/cargo ships."

"Well, do what you think best," Chuck grumbled, "but Wings could sure use the help. We're both going a little stir-crazy over here!"

"Nag was listening, Chuck, and she's already working on it. I think the Sisterhood will help, because we've been helping them by pairing ships with human partners. So far, we've heard no complaints, and according to Nag, she thinks other Flicker ships will join them. They also like the idea of anti-piracy patrols and are working to find a way to disable a pirate ship without having to destroy it. I've got some ideas about that, after hearing how Sisterhood ships protect themselves. We can talk more later, but for now I'll hold off on re-tasking ships."

"How's that pairing going?" Chuck asked curiously. "I've been busy setting up the Medical Academy, which by the way will be fully mobile. We can park it in Mars orbit for a month so that Mars University's students can attend seminars, then head for Terra and do the same thing. Probably take longer, considering how many medical schools Terra has. I suspect that some of the universities dirtside will want their own versions as soon as they hear about ours."

"I can see providing Terra with its own Academy, but it will have to be international, that is, open to students from every nation or consortium of nations!" Mac sputtered. "I'm not going to just hand over hundreds of ships so each university or even each nation can have its own! It's time they learned to work together!"

"Fat chance, Mac! A better idea for them would be to establish orbital stations. They've got plenty of lift capacity using Terran-built impeller-driven ships, and after they get them built, NFI would provide the necessary gravity compensators. I'll draft a proposal and send it to Mars, ask President Robert Sneyd to present it to the Solar Union. But I'm like you, I don't see it happening. About the best we can hope for is that the major multinational units will like the idea. How would you feel about matching funds?"

"You're suggesting that if the North American Alliance raised half the money, you and I jointly would provide the other half?" Mac asked. "It's an interesting thought, and it's not as if we have a better use for our money! Providing the money and announcing it publicly, maybe allow others to join in if they want, might also damp down some of the resentment! Chuck, we're not welcome on Terra, either one of us!"

"I hear you! It's not as if we're taking away anything they had, but they don't see it that way!"

"Probably because there's an entire class of people down there that would prefer the lower classes hate us instead of them!" Mac pointed out. "They've not only managed to collect most of the money on Terra, it's an open secret that they're also getting longevity treatments! Which they're deliberately keeping away from the rest!"

"Yeah, they've still got too many people on that overcrowded dirt ball," Chuck agreed. "They need trees more than they do people, and some won't like the idea of the medical academies prolonging lives. Did you notice that during our recruiting drive, not a single government agency wondered what we were up to? Or what happened to the people who signed up?"

"I hadn't, but now that you mention it…"

"We collected a bunch of good people, Mac. Just like always, the ones with enough guts and determination will abandon everything, hoping that they'll find a better life in space. I listened in on some of the conversations when they came aboard, and it was enough to break your heart. I'm glad we did it, even though I had my own selfish reasons at the time, and I think we ought to keep on doing it."

"Just as soon as we have enough ships to absorb them, Chuck. And for that matter, find something for those ships to do! Right now, except for the ones working with you, the others are exploring the solar system.

"One result, we've already got a far better picture of what's out there in the Oort region. The outer planets, especially the moons, and even the Asteroid Belts…Mickey is working with Ossoff to see how many of the independent prospectors would be willing to prospect the moons or outer belts. The idea is that we would provide a ship or ships for home bases. The Sisterhood likes the concept, because the ships would interact with a lot of Terrans, including a family or two who would be willing to remain on board to interface with the ship and the prospectors. They're thinking that we would have to provide a base salary for the prospectors—again, it's not as if we were hurting for money—and the income from whatever they find would be on top of that."

"Make sure there's a big pool on the base ships, Mac, and it wouldn't be a bad idea to see if you can recruit a few Flickers. Maona might be helpful, Poss too. Although he's already pretty busy with his research, and on top of that he's teaching Donald and Daisy."

"You're right, the prospectors like having Flickers around. I'll contact her, and she's already working with Poss on one of his projects, now that her off-Mars settlements have taken off. But she may have time to help my guys, or recruit others who will, and the Sisterhood just now approved the idea of moving a couple of ships in to assist Wings. It will take them a day or two to arrive—they're shifting other ships around to maintain enough density in each region to support the Flicker communities—but as soon as that's done, you'll have your ships."

"Speaking of Maona's needs, Mac, what about yours? You haven't accepted any of the new people on Nag."

"No need to, Chuck," Mac said evasively. "Nag has me, and from time to time my staff shows up. Not recently, they're doing well working from Mars, but if need be they'll move in here. Meantime, Nag takes care of my needs, and don't forget, I spent a lot of months alone out in the Belt. Just having a ship I can interact with is a treat for me! But having others around, people who don't work for me…that's how I got in trouble before!"

"Well, if you're sure," Chuck muttered. "Good talking to you, Mac. Take care." With that, his image vanished from the communicator.

***

Time passed. Wings completed her rebuild, and the extra ships she'd recruited to help went about the Sisterhood's business, all now accompanied by human companions.

A new recruiting operation, this time conducted by veterans of the earlier efforts, brought in 1500 Terrans in less than a month, and additional operations were planned as soon as members of the earlier groups had found appropriate niches. Most were on ships, some of which would explore and finally, fully-map the resources of the solar system, but a few had gone interstellar.

Chuck's Medical Academy had added a staff of licensed professionals to augment the teaching provided by Haven, the name chosen by agreement between the ship and its expanded human population. His abdominal region was now not only complete, the individual organs functioned as expected. Transplanting of clone parts had been decided against, and the clones were no longer mentioned. Chuck had forgotten them, and the Sisterhood had never exposed them to Chuck's memories. The knowledge of how to grow human or humanoids existed, and for the sisterhood that was all that was necessary. The clones were alive in a sense, but would never become sentient and would live out a 'normal' life span. Having never been exposed to the nanites, it would necessarily be somewhere around 70 years. Where they were was not mentioned; Chuck didn't ask, and they didn't tell.

Regrowth of his pelvis would take longer, as would his legs, and probably longer still before they became fully functional. But he and Claw were now able to leave Wings for short periods, their lower bodies encased in prostheses that took care of waste materials while provided mobility, and both were spending time out and about in Wings public areas. They also visited Haven when the medical academy invited them.

What Wings had done to save their lives and rebuild their bodies was now accepted practice if an injured human, Felis, or Flicker could survive long enough to reach a Sisterhood ship.

Wings had struggled to rebuild herself in the beginning, while also caring for and supervising the recovery of her human and Felis charges. For a fully functional ship, it soon became routine. So long as the brain, the cervical spine, and enough of the central nervous system arrived aboard a ship relatively undamaged, most of those injured would survive. Memories were another matter, depending on brain damage, but regaining at least some of the lost knowledge was possible.

And it wasn't as if the injured being had anyplace he or she could go while their bodies were being regrown!

Thanks to the growing relationship between humanity and the starships, the Sisterhood itself had grown. Many, perhaps most, stars and giant planets had their own versions of asteroid belts or rings, and when the orbiting junk proved rich enough, a few ships simply absorbed some of it and went on their way. Useless rock was deposited around another star or planet, while the valuable elements were shared among the sisters.

Some ships grew larger, then budded within themselves a smaller ship that would, when complete, be released to join the Sisterhood. Among themselves, the sisters referred to the process as 'pregnancy'.

***

The text message was formal and signed by MARs President Robert Sneyd. I hope this finds you well! This message is for Mac MacIntyre, CEO of Solar Resources, Inc, and Chuck Sneyd, head of New Frontiers, Inc's various enterprises.

We've had recent visits on Mars from some of your recent recruits. While I applaud your efforts to help Terrans who need it, and I expect that the Republic will benefit in the long run, the citizenship you granted poses problems for the Mars Republic should they decide to relocate here permanently.

Simply stated, Mars City is running out of cubage to accommodate them.

As you're aware, the Republic's government must approve all taxation, and since this doesn't benefit our current citizenry I can't ask citizens for funds to create a new city. I therefore propose to request of our Flicker friends that they create a new dome and lake, to be located some distance from Mars City. This will relieve crowding here, and also provide housing for the other new citizens you're recruiting.

In addition to cubage for housing, we'll need additional space for Flicker settlements, private enterprises, and for government agencies. The expansion is necessary if our Martian society is to grow. I'm hoping that NFI and SRI will fund the expansion.

Mac, consider this an advance notice before I make a formal request, so that you and my dad can discuss it. Please advise me of your decision as soon as possible. I will then offer a formal proposal to the Council, and after they approve it—it's something for nothing, they'll fall all over themselves to approve it—I'll send you the formal request.

Sincerely,

Robert Sneyd, President

The Martian Autonomous Republic

Habitat One, Mars City

Mac read the text to the end, then read it again before forwarding it to Chuck.

Ten minutes later, Chuck contacted him via their Flicker-supplied communicators. "I'm inclined to fund this, Mac. What do you think?"

"I agree. It gives us freedom to offer our recruits an actual place to live as well as a passport. How should we handle the funds?"

"I'll have to run it past my wife and the other major stockholders first, not that I expect a problem, but that's the way it should be handled. You might want to formally notify Mickey and Ossoff, because they own shares in SRI, but you own most of the stock so you can decide immediately. Lina is also head of Marsbank, so she'll need to talk to that group of stockholders before she authorizes a new issue of marsbucks. Routine stuff, but necessary."

"Have her talk to the bank's Economic Stability section," Mac suggested, "see if they think a new marsbuck issue will result in more inflation than is good for the local economy.

"We also might want to establish a new corporate entity to handle the expansion. Bobby can handle creating that for us, and I suggest that he offer our companies shares in return for the capital we provide. We'll recover part of the money immediately, probably most of it in the long run, as we sell the new cubage. We can afford to deposit the shares in the bank as additions to our capital accounts, which should tamp down inflation."

"Good thinking, Mac. Give me a day or two to call a board meeting—you can vote my shares as proxy—which added to your own, gives you majority control."

"Hard to believe, Chuck, considering where I was a few years ago! But it should work. Anything else?"

"Nope, that's it. We've both got people to talk to and things to do, so I suggest we get on with it! Chuck, out."

 

Chapter Four

Things related to the mainstream Flickers seemed to be going too well, which made Mac nervous.

He called Chuck, but got no reassurance, and President Robert Sneyd made it clear that he could not be officially involved with investigating the motives of the Flicker Communities. "Mac, I really don't see the problem! I agree that captains of survey vessels made questionable decisions hundreds of years ago, but where's the harm? Babies who'd been abandoned by parents were rescued! They would have died, whether from exposure or animal attacks, but instead they were nurtured through childhood to adult status! I've interacted with Flickers since they first arrived on Mars, and to be blunt, I don't think they're a threat!"

"Bobby, are you following the news from Terra? They know about the hybrids! And some are claiming the children were kidnapped by flying saucers!

"You know that old fear has never gone away, and finding the hybrids just gives credence to it! Any number of news outlets are publishing accounts that are simply insane, from people who are mentally unbalanced or eager for their fifteen minutes of fame!"

"Tabloids, Mac! I've seen some of them and I agree the stories are stupid, but some of Terra's groundhogs are willing to believe anything! Human-Flicker babies, even! Mac, I've dealt closely with the Communities! If they have an agenda at all, it's to be left alone so that they can seek completeness in their own way! That's their term, which I interpret as compatibility with the other members of their community."

"Humans and Flickers are sexually compatible, Bobby, at least physically. Genetically, I agree with you that it's impossible, but tell that to the ones who read those tabloids!"

"Mac, you're just going to have to learn to ignore the crap they print! But sensational stories do not change my mind! Officially, the Flickers are allies, and personally I've found no reason to doubt that. Call a meeting of your committee if you want, but I can't be part of it!"

With that, Bobby broke the connection.

Mac's next call was to Chuck, who agreed that contacting others of the informal committee was warranted.

"Your ship or mine, Mac? Although Wings is pretty crowded most of the time, what with all those student medics wanting to personally examine Claw and me!"

"We'll do it on Nag," Mac decided. "Tomorrow? And if Wings is too crowded, should I send a ship to bring you here? For that matter, are you sure you can leave?"

"Send the ship, Mac. Wings has produced a pair of mobile support—things—that we're ready to try. They're self-propelled with a pair of tracks in front and wheels in the back for stability. They're not pretty, but so far they work!"

"Nag will be there tomorrow at 0800 Mars Standard Time, not that you have to transfer on board until you're ready. Admiral Roberta is off doing admiral things—she agrees with President Robert that the mainstream Flickers aren't a threat—but Captain Morty is available, and I'd like to know where the Patrol stands. I'll also ask Poss if he can attend, and work out arrangements with Dolph, Deuce, and The Eldest. It's been too long, Chuck; I'm looking forward to seeing you in person!"

"Mac, Claw will be with me, so Furr-ba should be invited too."

"I'll contact him, but he's got problems of his own. The Chinese balked at first when he brought the Felis females he rescued back with him. The university claimed at first that they couldn't provide housing or feed them, but when he told them that if they couldn't provide support for the others he'd be leaving, they caved. They really want access to his flickersong translation suite!"

"Dolph will also want to see how well it works, but he's pessimistic. So much of the Flicker science and math he's interested in have jargons that are almost a different language! Even so, a framework based on Furr-ba's translations will be useful."

***

Nag was parked in Mars orbit when Mac woke up the next morning. Yawning, he visited the head, then went belowdecks for his morning swim, a routine he'd adopted. In addition to needed exercise, it gave him time to think.

Furr-ba had declined to attend the meeting after explaining the problems he'd been having with the Chinese. "Mac, they didn't want to provide the females we rescued with housing or appropriate food! But when I told them I'd be leaving, they managed. I'm sick of them, sick of the nagging and the constant spying! The only reason I'm still here is to finish my translation app! And as soon as it's done, I'll be out of here so fast that it'll take my tail a week to catch up!"

"That bad, Bondmate?" Mac asked sympathetically.

"Worse!"

"I'll send a summary to your communicator after the meeting. It's still secure, right?"

"Right, and password protected!" Furr-ba assured him. "The password is in flickersong, sung in a register that their voices can't handle!"

"Just be careful," Mac cautioned. "They can't sing it, but if they record you doing it…"

"Yeah, a computer could match it. I keep my communicator with me at all times, and it wouldn't hurt to have Nag monitor the channel for suspicious activity."

"Good idea, and I'm sure we can work up an encryption that they can't crack. I'll message you later."

By mid-morning, ship time, he had reviewed issues he thought should be discussed during the meeting, so when Morty requested permission to board he was ready. "Coffee? Pastry, or a full breakfast?"

"Just coffee and a pastry, Mac, I'm not particular. You're looking well!"

"I try, Morty. You're looking…well…" Morty was visibly weary, with pronounced worry lines in his forehead. Pool nanites might eventually remove them, but equally, they might become permanent if left untreated long enough.

"I know, I know, but Mac, I'm stuck dealing with administration! There's so much to do that I never seem to have a spare minute!"

"Then hire more assistants for now—we've got new people coming in every month, some may have the skills you need—but in the long run, you're going to need a staff to deal with the details, particularly personnel and administration. I had the same problem starting out, but I already had friends I could rely on."

"I shuffle as much onto Slim as I can," Morty protested, "but he's overworked too!"

"You can't afford to do that, Morty! Slim is a trained and experienced Patrol officer! He's got better things to do with his time, or should have! You, too! What about your ship Partner?"

"Use the ship for administration? Mac, I don't know…"

"You never will if you don't try! Start small, let Partner handle all routine personnel decisions. If there are questions you're available to answer them, but I suspect within a few days you'll find your ship is doing at least as well as you would have! She's in constant contact with the Sisterhood of ships, and among them there's enough spare capacity to handle routine tasks for the entire human species! All you have to do is learn to use it!"

"I hadn't really thought of that, Mac. Partner already handles lists and scheduling, things like that, but decisions?"

"The Sisterhood has absorbed your grandfather Chuck's personality, Morty. Would you trust him to make decisions for you?"

"Put that way, then yes, I would! How about you, Mac? Ever thought of letting Nag do a full scan of your mind?"

"Me? Why…uh…"

"Mac, your Solar Resources company is as large and maybe even more important now than Chuck's New Frontiers! In fact, I wouldn't be surprised to find out that Nag has already started scanning you, and for that matter everyone who boards a ship! You said it yourself, Mac, the Sisterhood has a lot of excess capacity."

"Well, make yourself at home," Mac evaded. "I've got a couple of things to do, and the others should be arriving shortly. Don't be surprised at how your grandfather looks; he's now using a transporter that deals with his bodily needs, Claw too. The important thing is that they survived."

"Because of what Wings did, and she did it without any directions! She just acted independently. You're right, Mac, I've had the best assistant anyone could have all along. I'll get started now, before the others arrive."

"Nag will establish a link; just let her know what you need."

"No need, Mac; I've got my own communicator now, and so does Slim. You and Chuck call them 'Flicker' communicators, but while the Flickers may have designed the first ones, the ships produce them."

"That makes sense," Mac mused. "Flicker friends gave them to us, and I never thought about where they were getting them! But you should be careful what you send; you never know who might be listening, now that so many have the communicators."

"Not a problem, at least not so far. Mac, we have ten channels that are reserved for Patrol admin use and more for operations. And by the way, no one in the Solar Union division of the Patrol has access to the communicators. No eavesdropping from that quarter!"

***

After the usual round of greetings, the meeting got off to an informal start with Mac leading off. "I've asked Nag to search the starnet for any mention of that destroyed village Chuck found on Alpha Orionis 8. She reports that there are no reports of a conflict, ever, that would explain what Chuck observed.

"The village is known to the communities on that world, but is labeled only as 'unidentified ruins'. It's not associated with a lake, so the locals have never bothered trying to explain it. The Sisterhood is creating a map and classifying the damage, but a lot of what was there has simply crumbled away. There is, however, a notice of an unexplained structure that might be a similar ruin. It's just that, a single observation that was never followed up on. The location is near the spinward edge of the Orion Arm, and the ship that originated the report was lost soon after.

"A question for Nag and the Sisterhood, then," Chuck said. "I recall that there have been several reports of ship losses near the edges of the Orion Arm, though none have vanished recently. Do we have a reason for that, or an explanation?"

"No ship has been near that region of space in more than a thousand Terran years, Chuck," Nag replied. "There is a vast and almost empty region of space where few stars are found."

"You're telling me that the Sisterhood knows almost nothing of the fringes or what the next Arm is like?" Chuck pressed.

"That is correct," Nag responded. "Ship losses in that region were more than expected statistically, approximately 11.7% more than have occurred within the settled regions of the Orion Arm. We projected that there would be more losses should we investigate, and we foresee no advantage in so doing."

"But what if there was a way to see deeper into that space without risking ships?" Dolph interrupted. "Would you temporarily assign a squadron of, say, nine or ten ships who would not need to venture into the danger zone to collect information?"

"We do not believe it possible," Nag responded. "But then, humans have found ways to make impossible things happen. You are known to us as a thinker whose thoughts reach beyond what we can imagine. Tentatively, if you have such a plan, the Sisterhood will consider it."

"What I have in mind won't be easy," Dolph said. "In fact, it would be almost impossible without extensive mathematical coordination, and even then it relies on ship capabilities. Simply put, I propose to create a telescope which is large enough to provide detailed images of stars in adjacent arms of the Milky Way. Are you familiar with the Very Large Array in the state of New Mexico, which is part of the North American Alliance?"

"We've been there," Deuce offered. "The Eldest sampled organisms from several ecosystems and transplanted them to the living labs he created. It's not really possible to have a jungle world and a steppe world and a near-Arctic world; landforms, wind patterns and ocean currents determine local climates and moisture distribution systems. The planets he's claimed as lab worlds have a bit of everything, and so far, they're doing better than the terraformed worlds. We've observed species on the 'wild' worlds that haven't been identified."

"Then you know how the radio telescopes work," Dolph said. "The scopes are focused on a single region of space. The radio signals are then compiled electronically to produce images. The VLA works because each of the three Y-formation arms can be adjusted in length to produce resolution equivalent to a 37km dish."

"Ingenious, really," The Eldest said.

His words were in standard, but the reedy tone carried a hint of music that made it difficult for Mac to follow. I'm the dummy here, he thought. I guess they understand, and that's all that really matters.

"You're proposing a larger array? Stars emit radio signals, planets not so much. What about visible light?" The Eldest pursued.

"The VLA antennas use aluminum panels to reflect incoming radio waves to a collector. It occurred to me that a highly-polished silver backing under a thin layer of glass would reflect light waves. A single ship could support a km-wide collecting dish made of multiple small reflectors, could it not? The shape of the dish could be adjusted to emphasize frequencies, and a linear amplifier could strengthen the signal before beaming it to the collector ship. Depending on the size of the virtual disk, your collector ship could also move in closer or farther out to change the focal length."

"The concept is feasible," Nag admitted. "More ships would be better, and the location would need to be carefully chosen. Someplace distant from the galactic core, and even then near the leading or following edges of the Orion Arm."

"Near the danger zone you mentioned," Morty offered. "I'm more suspicious than the Sisterhood. One unlikely loss, okay; it can happen. But statistically, more than expected? That sounds suspicious to me."

"Suggestion?" Mac asked.

"An armed patrol, to snoop around before the 'scope ships show up and provide protection for the ships."

"Weapons?" asked Chuck.

"Whatever we've got, up to and including nukes," Morty said flatly. "If my people are out there watching out for bears, I want them to have whatever they might need to take out the biggest bear imaginable!"

 

Chapter Five

"Good idea, as far as I'm concerned," Mac said, "but we haven't really talked about why Chuck and I called this meeting. One question seems to be answered, the one about the ruins on Alpha Orionis 8 and whether the Flicker communities had anything to do with what happened, but it opens another question that we might want to take up later. Meantime, there's the question about why the Flickers moved into the solar system in the first place. Eldest?"

"First, it was only one Community. I can't speak to motives, but it may have been simple curiosity. My species may have encountered other sentients before the starnet came into being, but if so there are no records. During the war a number of worlds were slagged, meaning there's nothing left of the surface now but barren rock, and whatever records might have existed were lost. I don't think I can make Terrans understand the madness that existed back then. I barely can, and I lived through the final century of it! But by the end, we that you call Flickers were…well, what we are. Billions of us, but the reality is that we're dying out. Every song goes on, but there will be no new singer to replace her.

"We flinch from war, Terran Mac, because we saw too much of it. We endure more than any species should have to, but we do because despite all we did, all I did, hope remains. In Terran terms, we serve a kind of penance. We exist, and live with what might have been. Those you call mainstreamers lack the will to do more, although thanks to you Terrans, young Poss and his like may be recovering. It's too soon to say, and too soon to say whether our species can endure. Poss?"

"We are called outcasts, rogues, Eldest. The memories of the war and its aftermath are there, but I've worked through it. Others have too, and many of us now work on genetics. I hope one day to reach full understanding of our genetic code, but so far every effort has ended in failure. I have often thought my latest effort might provide an answer, at least part of one, but so have others before me. Every effort fails. In human terms, it is disheartening, and ultimately the accumulating disappointment forces us to move on. I don't want to forget my work in genetics, but I think my next effort must be in mathematics, finding a way to describe the subtle interactions that cause molecules to sometimes line up wrong. It's why male fetuses so often abort. The few who survive are sterile, at least the ones we know of. There is at least one curious report in the starnet archives, but no definitive evidence that male Flickers capable of producing viable fetuses survive."

"You consider that report significant, Poss?" The Eldest asked.

"The report tells of a discovery on a planet that's near the trailing edge of the Orion Arm, Eldest. The community reportedly has grown larger than expected, yet there are no ship records to explain the increase. None of our people went there to join that community, and the report also mentioned more males than are found in other communities. One issue is the reported location; if true, that community has had no contact with other communities in more than a century. I think we should investigate."

"I agree. We'll talk after the meeting ends," The Eldest said. "I hope to bring another issue before us, the growing relationship between humans and the Sisterhood of ships. It appears that our ancestors may have done more than expected when they created the ships."

"I'm glad you mentioned that, Eldest," Chuck said. "I intended to mention that to the committee later on, after we finished with the other issues. In fact, I propose that we consider adding the Sisterhood to the Committee as a full member, but we should table it for now and come back to it after we finish with the current topic, which I remind you has to do with the Flickers. I am personally indebted to The Eldest for his insights."

"So," Mac said, regaining control of the discussion. "The Eldest mentioned curiosity as a motive for the first community, but I suspect there may have been another motive why so many of the so-called rogues came here, and that has to do directly or indirectly with what Poss is working on. We humans are prolific, and absent constraints from laws and scarce resources, would have produced more children than Terra could support.

"Mars took in some that they were most anxious to get rid of—no offense intended, Mac—and we're absorbing more now," Chuck said, "but this time, we're deciding which ones we'll accept."

"No offense taken, Chuck! You're right, I didn't have a future on Terra! The authorities wanted me gone, and when they offered me a seat on one of the transports I was happy to accept! But back to Poss and his research; he, and others, have long known that the Flicker species must inevitably go extinct unless they can find out what's causing the miscarriages. He's examining human cells too, including sperm cells, and comparing them with his own cells. The method of—collecting—the cells shouldn't concern us at this time, and for the record I, for one, am comfortable with his work."

"I'm interested too," Dolph said. "I've regained contact with scientists and mathematicians on Terra, and I think we can provide insights that Poss may not have considered. Not sure the committee is aware of this, but during meiosis a process called crossing-over occurs. It's quite technical, so I'll spare you the details, but the important thing is that errors can occur, and when it happens fetuses often miscarry. Those that survive may be—well, different. Your son Robert's medical issues may have originated during meiosis, although there's no way to tell. I only mention it as a possibility."

"That's interesting," Chuck said thoughtfully. "I always assumed it happened later, in the womb. Oxygen deprivation, maybe lack of nutrients or a lessened blood supply, but it doesn't matter now. Whatever the cause, lower gravity on Mars, the swimming he did for exercise, and the nanites in the Central Park water fixed what was wrong. He avoids returning to Terra, but that may be due to living so long on Mars where the gravity is lower. He's more than twice as heavy on Terra, 2.66 times if you're interested in the numbers."

"We let Patrol crews decide the gravity setting they use on board individual cruisers," Morty mentioned. "We tell them up front that if they ever intend to return to the home planet, it's best to set the gravity compensators at one Terran gee. None of them have done that so far. A couple of crews are in the 75% Terran-normal range, but most are closer to Mars-normal gravity."

"Back to the problem with Flicker births," Mac said, while thinking, controlling this bunch is like herding Felis! Worse, Felis kittens! "Have you considered the effect of your nanites? They're necessary for FTL travel—the frequency shift as a ship approaches Cee means that crews are exposed to dangerous levels of radiation, and the nanites help your bodies dispose of damaged cells—but what if they also affect sperm or egg cells?"

That was a preview of Hybrids: The New Frontiers Series, Book Eight. To read the rest purchase the book.

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