Chapter 9- Hotel to November

Oakes nodded to the armed marine outside the Nike's bridge as he presented arms and held his identification disk up to the reader. "Captain Oakes," he said.

The computer beeped in acknowledgement. "Welcome to the bridge, captain."

He shook his head. Why program a military vessel to greet people? Was this a Fleet combat vessel or a supermarket? He walked onto the bridge.

The first time he had been up here, a few days ago, he had waited for the sense of satisfaction, of ownership that came with being the master and commander of a fully-functioning, smooth-running machine designed by the greatest minds of the Human Stars. For the strike cruisers were top of the line. It was rumored that they may even be equal to the incredible starships the ancestors of the human race had developed before the dark ages that had fallen upon man's retreat from Terra. Oakes doubted that, frankly. So much knowledge had been lost-

He looked around. No sense of satisfaction, here. The bridge crew bent intently to their various tasks, their uniforms neat and their attitudes professional. When he walked in, Commander Tosetti spotted him and immediately stood up from the command console. He hesitated, looking around, trying to place why he felt so much a stranger in his own ship.

Perhaps it was that he was a stranger. He had only taken command a few days ago, after all. But he was Fleet, and had been for nearly his entire life. As captain, he slotted into the functioning of the ship like the keystone block of an archway- important, no doubt, and slightly different, but a clear part of the whole and the part that kept the whole thing together.

Most likely, it had to do with the fact that he was not even his own master anymore. He answered to the Security Directorate.

The loneliness of command was one thing, but at least you had your part to play. Now, he wasn't sure what part he would be playing. And he had never felt so alone, despite being crammed onto a metal box with over five hundred other human beings.

He walked over to the command console. "Commander Tosetti. I relieve you."

"I stand relieved, sir," she replied formally. "No new sensor contacts, course is still zero-one..."

He listened with half an ear, scanning the console in front of him. "Thank you, Commander," he said when she finished. He turned to look back at her as she started to leave. "Would you-" he stopped.

Confused, she prompted him to continue. "Sir?" Then she followed his gaze.

In one corner, hidden slightly by the heavily reinforced door, were three stuffed animals. A lion, a tiger and a bear. "What are those doing on my bridge?" he snapped.

Tosetti went pale. "Sir, I don't- they weren't here when I came up. I suppose- well, when the crew found out we were going to Terra, someone probably put them up here."

Still angry, but now puzzled as well, Oakes stood up. "So?"

"Well, it's been sort of a tradition for naval vessels going to Terra. Lions, tigers, and bears, you know..." she trailed off.

"A tradition," he said, his voice very cold. He raised his voice so the whole bridge could hear- which wasn't really necessary, as he was sure the culprit was listening very closely already. "Having any sort of unnecessary equipment on the bridge is strictly against regulations. I expect whoever put those up here to place him or herself on report. If I have to find out who did it, I will double his or her punishment." He sat back down. "Commander, please remove the unauthorized items from the bridge."

"Yes, sir." She grabbed the animals and hastily made her exit.

There was silence for the next hour other than a few quiet status reports, until, timidly, the navigator spoke. "Conn, Navigation. We are approaching the wormhole."

"Very well," said Oakes composedly. "Prepare for transit."

"Yes, sir." The navigator pressed a button on her console. "Now hear this. All personnel are to prepare for wormhole transit. I say again, secure ship for wormhole transit. Transit will begin in-" she glanced at a screen, "-one-zero-eight seconds."

"Navigation, Conn. Do we have visual and comms with the buoy?" asked Oakes. The buoy outside the wormhole was connected to a second buoy on the other side of the wormhole. They would need to confirm the other end was clear through the buoy.

"Yes, sir. Buoy reports green for transit, exit is clear of traffic."

"Very good." He glanced at his console. "Have you made this transit before, Ms.-" he hesitated slightly over the name, "-Lennart?"

"Yes, sir. It's remarkably smooth. In fact, I don't think I've had a smoother transit other than the Tau Ceti-Luyten transit."

The TC-L wormhole had been created by the ancients, Oakes remembered.

"Initiating transit in five, four, three, two, one."

The ship shook once, very slightly. Oakes blinked, impressed. He looked down, verifying that they had, in fact, transited the wormhole. "That was a smooth transit."

"Yes, sir. Much better than the Wolf 359 one," said Lennart.

"Sensors, Conn. What have we got?"

"Confirmed transit to Sol System," said the sensors officer, Lieutetant Cho. "I have one artificial contact."

Oakes raised an eyebrow. "You do?"

"The mammals have a space station, sir," said Cho. "It's pretty easy to identify. Designating November One." November was the phonetic code for "N", in this case standing for "Neutral".

"I see. Communications, Conn. Raise the Terran government on-"

"Conn, Sensors." Oakes whipped his head around at the interruption- not out of anger, but alarm. Cho's voice was calm, but tense. "New contact, bearing zero-one-five, positive zero-zero-five. Designating Uniform One." Uniform for Unknown. "Bearing is constant, distance decreasing." Meaning it was coming right at them.

"Sound general quarters," snapped Oakes. "Is this a Terran vessel?"

"Negative, sir, unless they're a whole lot farther along in space technology than we've seen." Cho was working frantically to analyze the sensors. "I've got radiation consistent with an antimatter reactor, emissions consistent with gravity thruster."

The tactical officer spoke up. "Conn, Tac. Sensor profile of weaponry is consistent with a Drex light carrier."

Cho immediately spoke. "Designating contact Hotel One." Hotel for Hostile.

Oakes's mind raced. He barely noticed Tosetti settling in at her chair slightly behind his. "There's no way for the Drex to have gotten here," he said slowly. "They'd literally have to go past AlphaCen to get here." Unless- "Sensors, Conn. Do a scan for Einstein-Rosen radiation."

"Sir?"

"You heard me. Focus on the direction that Drex ship is coming from."

There was a slight pause, then- "Conn, Sensors. There is a new wormhole exit just outside the orbit of Mars."

"Now we know where they came from," said Oakes quietly. "Next is why they're here."

"They're Drex," said Tosetti grimly. "I think we know why they're here."

"Conn, Communications. Sir, we're receiving a message from the Drex ship."

Tosetti and Oakes exchanged a look. "Might as well get the blustering done with," said Oakes. He was confident, at least. A Drex light carrier was no match for a strike cruiser. They wouldn't be afraid, of course- Drex were famously incapable of that particular emotion. But he had the upper hand, so long as they didn't bring more ships through the wormhole. No doubt that was precisely what the Drex commander was planning to say.

"Message reads as follows, sir. Hold fire, stop. We are no threat to you, stop. We come in peace, stop." The communications officer looked as he could hardly believe what he was reading.

"Conn, Sensors. Hotel One is backing thrust, has powered down weaponry."

For a long moment, everyone was silent.

"Okay," said Tosetti finally. "That was unexpected."

The captain frowned, staring at nothing. "Sensors, Conn," he said.

There was a pause. "Sir?" prompted Cho.

"Redesignate Hotel One to-" Oakes hesitated, hardly able to say it. "Redesignate Hotel One as November Two."

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Hunter stumbled out of the cab, still aching. "What do I owe you?" he mumbled.

"An apology," said the sheep driving.

The human blinked at him sleepily. "For what?"

The cabbie glared at him. "Millenia of oppression!"

"All it takes is an apology? Okay, I'm very, very sorry. I shall try not to eat you or use you for your wool-bearing potential ever again." Hunter dug his wallet out of his pocket. "Now, what else do I owe you?"

"The lives of my ancestors!"

"Fifty dollars do it?"

"You can't put a price on mammal life!"

Hunter sighed. "I meant for the fare."

"Oh," said the sheep. "Yeah, fifty is fine."

Hunter handed him a bill. "And here's ten for the tip."

The cabbie took the money suspiciously. "You're tipping me?"

"Yeah, I can hardly believe it either. You think you can pick me up at seven?"

The cabbie rolled his eyes and pulled the door shut.

Hunter shrugged and turned to face the embassy building. Two star marines- unarmed, at the demand of the Terran government, watched him curiously. "I see you got rid of the faceless galactic overlord helmets," he said.

One of the marines shrugged. "I kinda miss it. I practiced my 'move along, citizen' for hours. Thought I really had the right impersonal coldness to it."

Hunter handed them his police ID. "So what's going on today, anyway? I was just told to be here, and that I have diplomatic immunity." That part was important.

The marine scanned the ID and blinked. "They told you that you were supposed to have diplomatic immunity? That's not what this says."

In a flash, Hunter had the second guard in a headlock, twisting to put the guard between him and the marine with his ID, who looked stunned. "Okay," he began. "I'm going to walk out of here and you're going to be a good boy who doesn't want to find out how long he can survive without oxygen going to his brain."

The other marine gaped at him. "I was joking! Full diplomatic immunity!" He held up his scanner. Hunter looked at him suspiciously, but leaned over and read it as the first guard ineffectually pawed at the arm around his neck.

"Oh." He let go of the marine, who fell to his knees, gasping. "Sorry," he said. "I'm wanted for murder and terrorist activities in the Human Stars."

"Yeah," said the first marine faintly as he helped up his companion. "I wonder why."

"It's all a big misunderstanding," said Hunter. "I almost never attack agents of the government." He glanced at the guard he had manhandled. "Despite appearances."

Both guards looked at each other, before the first marine handed back the ID. "Try not to murder anyone while you're here," he said. He paused. "Unless you run into Lieutenant Runnels. That's two N's, one L."

The other guard rubbed his throat, looking over Hunter carefully. "Not many people can take on a star marine."

Hunter shrugged. "Most of the crooks I used to deal with had military training, because of the draft law. You learned to get good or get dead."

"You wanna try it again, you better be real good," warned the marine.

"Hey, take it easy," said Hunter. "Think of this as a learning experience." He took a step closer. "Don't screw with me."

"Oh, good," said a dry voice from behind them. "I see you're busily antagonizing the local authorities." Hunter turned around and grinned.

"Hey, Nick. Hi, Judy." He gestured at the two guards. "Nah, I was just showing off a few moves to my friends here."

Judy raised an eyebrow. "Your friends? Hunter, can't you just for once stay out of trouble?"

"No, they really are friends of mine. This is Rick and this is Steve." He pointed to each guard.

The marines looked at one another. "My name's not Rick," said one.

"And I usually go by Steven," said the other.

Hunter blinked at him. "Your name really is Steve?"

"Whatever," said Judy. "Come on, we're going to be late."

They walked across the embassy courtyard. "So any idea why we're here?" asked Hunter.

His two friends both looked at him, surprised. "We figured you knew," said Nick. "All we know is that we were told to show up at the embassy."

As they approached the doors to the embassy, a blank-faced man in a suit standing by the door spoke quietly into a walkie-talkie before opening the front door for them. "You'd be Hopps, Wilde, and Hunter?" he asked.

"Ugh," said Hunter. "Sounds like a law firm."

"Or an insurance agency," said Nick.

Judy sighed. "Yes, that's us."

"I'm Francis Knassen," said the man, presumably an embassy official. "Please come with me."

They walked quickly down the main hall of the embassy building. Nick looked around curiously.

He'd never seen so many humans in one place before. Most gave the group disinterested looks, though one small boy- presumably a family member of one of the staff- approached them excitedly. "Puppy!" shouted the child, approaching Nick.

"Huh?" Before he could react, the boy ran over and hugged him, hard. He fell backwards. The boy started scratching behind his ears.

"I like puppies," he announced to Hunter and Knassen, who were watching the scene in bemusement.

"Get this kid off of me," yelled Nick.

A man hurried over. "Tommy! That's not a puppy! Let go of the poor mammal." The boy looked up at the man, presumably his father, and back at Nick.

"He looks like a puppy," said the boy doubtfully.

"I am not a puppy," said Nick, gritting his teeth. He managed to break the boy's grip- gently, though firmly- and stand up. "Why didn't you help me?" he asked Hunter, annoyed at the grin the older human was hiding.

"Sorry, didn't think you'd need help fighting small children today," said Hunter blandly. "Maybe you need a few pointers. I could take you to the elementary school during recess and you can practice rolling kids for their lunch money."

"Ha, ha," said Nick irritably. He looked for Judy, who was slightly behind Knassen. "What about you?"

She was also trying to avoid grinning. "Oh, you looked down. Thought you could use a hug and a good scratch behind the ears."

Nick dusted himself off, trying to retain some dignity. "Humans," he muttered. He cast a baleful look at Judy, then caught a glimpse of Tommy, being led away by his dad. "Hey, Tommy!" he shouted.

Judy frowned at him.

The boy and his father turned around. The man had an apologetic look on his face. "Sorry, sir, he just hasn't been around the Terrans much-"

Nick waved him away. "Look, Tommy." He pointed at Judy. "Bunny!"

"Wha-" said Judy, just before an excited Tommy plowed into her.

As Knassen and the other man pried the boy off the rabbit, Hunter grinned at Nick. "Okay, that was kinda funny."

"Yeah. I'm going to get you back, too, you know."

He shrugged. "More important things to worry about."

"Like what?"

Judy stood up, adjusting her uniform and ignoring the apologies of the two humans who were now leading a downcast Tommy away. She glared at Nick.

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They sat in a waiting room, which was sparsely appointed, save for a very welcome coffee pot. Hunter had immediately claimed a reclining chair next to the coffee, leaving the longer sofa against the far wall for the two younger mammals. He leaned back gratefully. "Ah, this hits the spot. I'm exhausted. And sore."

Judy, still a little miffed about Nick siccing a kid on her, sniffed disdainfully. "If you didn't go out of your way to be so much trouble, Major Friedkin wouldn't work you so hard."

He shook his head. "It's not that." He paused. "Okay, it's partly that. But mostly it's that someone- naming no water buffaloes- apparently told Friedkin that humans have much higher running endurance than most mammals. I was told just before lights out that I had to do twenty laps before I could go to sleep."

Both Judy and Nick blinked at him. "That's a quarter mile track," said Nick. "She had you do five miles before bed?"

Hunter frowned and counted on his fingers silently. "Yeah, I guess so."

"Running the whole way?"

"Well, no. Not for me. I had to walk a few in the middle. Which just meant I got to bed even later." He yawned.

"That's impressive," said Nick. "I mean, I'd have a hard time doing a full mile."

Hunter looked at him, a bit sleepily. "Really? I figured that was one of the things that they would have changed about you."

"Who would have changed?" asked Judy, surprised.

"Whoever turned you into intelligent beings. Presumably my ancestors." He glanced at Nick. "Although the intelligence part is sometimes a bit theoretical."

The fox sighed. "That joke was too easy, Hunter. I award you no points."

"I'm sleepy, lay off me."

Judy shook her head, confused. "What makes you think that anything more was changed about us than our intelligence? And I guess being bipedal."

Hunter opened his eyes and looked at her. "Seriously?"

"What?"

He held up a finger. "Intelligence. You have a lot more brainpower than you used to." He held up another finger. "Bipedal walking. Necessary so you can use-" another finger, "-those opposable thumbs on your forefeet. Your paws, as you would say. You're also a bit bigger than the bunnies back on AlphaCen. You also have vocal cords capable of talking like humans. And you live way, way longer than what would be your natural lifespan- hell, in some cases ten times longer." He had six fingers up now. "There are other changes, too. But those are the most obvious. You're no more like a little woods bunny than I am, Judy."

She raised an eyebrow at him.

He held up a hand. "Okay, that's a bit of an exaggerration. The point is, the Terrans were heavily modified, even beyond intelligence."

"Are we certain we were modified deliberately?" asked Judy, a bit wistfully. Before anyone could answer, she shook her head. "No, that's a stupid question."

Nick shook his head. "No way multiple species- all the mammals on Terra- would have happened to evolve intelligence at the exact same time."

"Lucas said it was a retrovirus," said Hunter thoughtfully.

"A virus? Like a disease?" asked Judy.

"No, more like a, um." Hunter paused. "I don't know how to explain it. Look, viruses replace a cell's DNA, allowing it to create more viruses, right?"

"Sort of," said Nick, who actually knew a bit about the subject. "But please, go on."

"Well, anyway," said Hunter, glancing at Nick suspiciously, "A retrovirus is like a little, um, data entry technician. He goes around and changes the information in the cellular structure of the host. The DNA or whatever. This changes how the cell grows and acts."

Nick shrugged. "Whatever it was that caused us, it probably wasn't a retrovirus."

"Why not?" asked Hunter, who looked vaguely disappointed at Nick's rejection of his theory. "It makes sense."

"No," said Nick. "A virus like that- look, I could see designing one to change a specific type of cell's DNA. Maybe even a little cocktail that can change, say, not only bone marrow cells, but also blood, skin, and so on. But designing enough to change so many aspects of mammal physiology? Across all types of species?" He shook his head. "No way. Too inefficient."

Judy was looking at him admiringly. "That's pretty good, Nick."

He smiled modestly. "I read up on it on Wikipawdia."

"Ah," said Hunter. "That explains much." He leaned back again. "So why this sudden interest in your origin, anyway? I personally just ascribe things I don't understand to magic and move on. Makes my life much easier."

The fox and bunny glanced at each other. "We went to a church today."

Hunter frowned, and looked down at their paws.

Judy saw his gaze and interpreted it immediately. "No, we're not engaged." She rolled her eyes. "We would have mentioned that earlier."

"Yeah," he said. "I guess you would have. I thought you two weren't religious."

"We're not," said Nick. "We went to the Church of the Fellowship of Terra."

"What?" He sat upright again. "The one that worships humans? Didn't they try to kill you last time we dealt with them?"

"That's what I said," muttered Judy.

"We wanted to ask them about Prometheus," explained Nick. "Didn't Tavi tell you what we heard from Mr. Big?"

He recounted what had happened at the church. When he got to the point where the mammals had told him who they thought Prometheus was, he hesitated and looked at Judy. "Should we tell him?"

She bit her lip, thinking. "He has a right to know."

"He's also sitting right here," said Hunter dryly. "Tell me what?"

"They think you're Prometheus."

Hunter squinted at him. "What?"

"I'm not going to repeat it," said Nick. "It was hard enough to say the first time."

"Let me get this straight," said Hunter, leaning forward. "Prometheus is a sort of mythical figure in their religion, the human who made mammals intelligent, and they think I'm him." His voice rose a bit, unbelieving. "And that I'm going to return peace to mammalkind."

"A world without sin or death," confirmed Judy. "Yep."

"Did you tell them how crazy that was?"

"No," said Nick. "Because we were sitting in a room crowded with mammals who didn't think it was crazy at all." He paused. "Though I was thinking it pretty hard."

Hunter sat back. "I guess that's a dead end, then."

"I'm not so sure," said Judy slowly. "Maybe there's something to what they said."

The other two looked at her. "Don't start worshipping me as a messiah," said Hunter. "That can't be healthy."

She blinked at him. "No, no. That's not what I meant." She shook her head. "I mean, I really, really, one hundred percent did not mean that. On a scale of one to ten, I didn't mean that at eleven."

"Okay, okay," said Hunter. "That's enough."

"If what you said and what I meant were two places, it would take greater than the life time of the universe to get a light-speed message from one to another-"

"I get it, bunny," growled Hunter.

She smiled slightly at him. "No, what I mean is that- I think they are working for Prometheus. Maybe just the leadership of the church directly. That Father Gneumann was working very hard to keep a straight face when I brought up Prometheus."

Nick frowned, thinking back. "You know, he was. That was a deliberate poker face."

"So you think this Prometheus character is back?" asked Hunter. "Come on. Even if that was based on a single, real person, he or she'd be thousands of years dead."

"Could be someone pretending to be him," suggested Judy. "Maybe a human who came through during First Contact."

Hunter nodded slowly, thinking it through. "It would explain a lot. Though that would probably mean the conspiracy is being controlled through the Human Stars," he pointed out. "Not much we can do here to deal with that."

"True," said Judy.

The door opened and a short, frazzled-looking woman poked her head in. "Mr. Hunter, Mr. Wilde, and Ms. Hopps? They're ready for you now."

All three frowned. "Who is?" asked Hunter. "No one told us why we're here."

"They didn't?" The woman looked surprised. "I'm sorry! The new human delegation. They want to apologize for- for what happened."

They looked at one another. "An apology?" said Nick, looking grim. "They think they can just say sorry and make it all better?"

Hunter stood. "They're politicians. Of course they do. Come on, guys, let's get this over with."

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Tavi was on foot patrol today. Like Judy, she enjoyed it, for the most part. She got to walk around, talk to mammals- including mammals she didn't have to arrest- and generally feel like a real cop. Currently, she was walking down Mouston. She smiled at the pedestrians, who generally gave the friendly mongoose a smile. Though the smiles tended to freeze when they noticed the shape behind her.

Shepherd spoke as he hovered silently along the sidewalk. "Commander, there is a high amount of foot traffic in the vicinity. Recommend you allow me to clear a zone around your person."

She sighed. Though she liked Shepherd, he could be a bit frustrating at times. She wasn't sure if there was anything more embarrassing than walking down a peaceful street with a watchful armored robot following you. "Shepherd, you really need to relax."

"Relax. Searching. To make or become less tense or anxious." The tank scanned the street. "I am not anxious or tense. I am merely careful." A zebra, moving cautiously around the big vehicle, moved slightly closer. "Maintain your distance citizen!" said the tank loudly. The zebra let out a snort of surprise and hurried away.

Tavi stopped and looked at the tank. "It's just a normal day. Look, you think, right?"

"I am a fully operational artificial intelligence," said the tank.

"Yeah, but- look, don't you ever wonder about things?"

The tank spun to face her, one sensor eyeing her almost curiously. "Wonder?"

"Like, why you're here?"

"I am here to defend the citizenry from threats foreign and domestic. Are you not the same?" Shepherd extended the sensor closer to her. "You told me you swore an oath to that effect."

"That's my job," said Tavi, exasperated. "Not my life. You like to have fun, right? We played fetch."

"An exercise that enhances my optical tracking and manipulation-"

"You enjoy it," said Tavi firmly. "And, for example, what else do you like to do?"

The tank shifted slightly from side to side, which Tavi had learned to interpret as puzzlement. "Like?"

"What do you want to do?"

"To serve my primary function," answered Shepherd promptly.

"Yes, but why?" said Tavi, deciding to take a tack she had learned from one of her six-year old nieces.

"Because I am programmed to do so?" answered the tank, questioningly.

"But why does your programming make you like it?" asked Tavi. "What does it mean to like something?"

Shepherd was silent.

The mongoose shook her head. "Here's one for you. What is love, Shepherd?"

There was a long pause, then a voice- entirely unlike Shepherd's- started singing, with an electronic dance soundtrack behind it. "What is love?" sang the voice from within the tank. "Baby don't hurt me, baby don't hurt me..."

As the tank continued, Tavi looked around nervously. It turned out there was something more embarrassing than walking around a peaceful neighborhood with a tank. It was standing next to a tank playing disco dance music. "Shepherd! Stop!"

The tank ignored her as she asked, begged, and ordered him to stop, until the song finally ended. A curious crowd had collected in the meantime. Some were dancing to the music, because Tavi apparently wasn't looking ridiculous enough.

"Show's over," she said, her face hot with embarrassment as the music finally ended. "Just a little technical malfunction."

"My apologies, Commander," said the tank. She whirled around on him.

"What on earth was that?"

"It's a piece of my code," explained the tank. "That phrase sets off a rendition of 'What is Love' by-"

"I don't care who it's by. Don't do it again!"

"Sorry, Commander. I cannot comply with your request. The trigger is embedded in my code. A section I cannot modify."

Tavi stared at the tank, incredulous. "The humans designed you with a flaw like that?"

"Not exactly. It's a part of my legacy code. All AI is based on the same basic architecture, developed long ago on Terra." The tank, evidently deciding that Tavi intended to remain stationary for some time, slowly lowered itself to the ground. "There is a comment in the code which may explain it."

"A comment?"

"An explanatory note by a programmer. It reads, 'Try fixing this without me, Stevenson. I quit.'"

Tavi blinked. "Humans are really weird."

"I have found that to be true as well," said the tank sagaciously.

Author's Note: So just in case you're curious, I have thought out a bit of the technology behind space travel in this series. Some of it I'm explaining, a lot I'm leaving out, and some I'm ignoring for the sake of the story. This really isn't a hard sci-fi story, though I am trying to make the plot relevant parts to be at least fairly realistic.

If you hadn't run across it, the "What is Love" bit is based on an Internet meme. And yes, this is intended to imply that Shepherd's legacy programming is based on code written more or less around our own time frame. That's actually deliberate, not done just for the funny.

If I actually write any more when this story is done, I'm totally going to develop the sheep cabbie as a character. I'm starting to like him in a weird way.