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Fathom's Phantoms Imperfect Plans

The warning Alvin provided when Lydia's dabbling in the mainframe was first detected didn't surprise her; the thing that DID surprise her was that it came during the station's second sleep cycle-- program review always took place during the third. Regardless, Lydia was up seconds after the near-silent klaxon started going off.

She took a seat at her desk before unrolling her cloth command board; she always had better response times when using a larger physical interface than the one her PCD provided. "What've we got?"

ALVIN responded calmly. "Three programming officers have established counter-intrusion protocol. I have initiated several fail-safe codes to slow their progress."

Lydia yawned, then immediately began typing away at her board. "Why would they be running diagnostics at THIS hour?"

"It is not impossible to believe that a random search might be done at any hour as a method to increase sec--"

She scowled. "That was rhetorical, Alvin. Focus on slowing em down while I cover up your code."

The Program objected. "I am able to multitask, Lydia. My ability to impede their activities is not affected by carrying on a conversation with--"

She hated being woken up at such an ungodly hour and wasn't interested in debating, so she interrupted him with a grumble. "Well my ability to hide you deeper into the system is! Now shut up a minute."

ALVIN's Collie face appeared on the monitor next to the display Lydia was using. "I can identify Programmer Codes. 422, 819, and 106."

Lydia had the programming staff's codes memorized. "Helen, Arni, and Carlton."

Her personal favorite was Gary the Goat's: 666-- it seemed inexplicably fitting. ALVIN's next comment brought her attention back to the present. "Accessing crew records now, Lydia. None are assigned to the security coding office."

Lydia didn't bother to pause but the comment made her brain lag for a moment; if they weren't part of the computer security team then why were they tracking the very inconspicuous trail she'd created in the system? Following that thought, she quickly erased any sign of her electronic 'fingerprints' and, with Alvin's help, eliminated any clues that would allow someone to trace the very successful data breach activities back to her.

ALVIN spoke up. "Response times to coding changes indicate that they are using an ineffective coding method, Lydia, which suggests that they--"

She finished the thought for him. "They're on PCDs. Chance are they're tracking input signals."

"That is likely, yes."

The moment she came to that conclusion she immediately turned off her monitor, "Can you locate them on the station, Alvin?"

Lydia moved quickly back to bed. A plan was already beginning to form in her mind even before Alvin responded. "Yes, Lydia. They are converging on this hallway right now."

Taking a seat, the Human quickly kicked off her pajama bottoms and pulled out a data pad that was filled with a large collection of 'inappropriate-for-children data'. She turned to her particularly favorite picture and laid back on her bed, "Keep processing, Alvin but I don't want you transmitting any signals to this room."

The Program confirmed, Collie face disappearing from the monitor. "I understand, Lydia."

She was able to identify the exact moment Alvin withdrew his presence from all output devices in her quarters. The Human had JUST enough time to slide two fingers between her legs when a series of override controls deactivated the lock on her door, and three 'unexpected visitors' burst in.

Carlton was the first to enter the room. The Nutria had civilian-issue shock wand brandished in one paw while the other had a hand-held signal tracker. "Alright, Parker, we know you're--!"

The moment he caught sight of Lydia laying on the bed he almost dropped the stun wand. She played her part perfectly: the surprised and bashful girl getting caught in the middle of pleasing herself. "What the fuck?!?!"

For good measure she flailed on the mattress, fumbling in an attempt to cover herself in mock surprise. A moment later Helen entered, obviously the second in line. The Human woman, several inches taller than the Nutria, pushed into the room. "What's going on on--?"

Like Carlton, she had a tracking device in one hand, but her other was busy with a virtual display coming from her PCD; Helen was still typing away, likely trying (in vain) to hold Alvin's activities at bay. Lydia's carefully planned indignation came out as a screech, "Do you MIND?!?! The door was LOCKED!!!"

Once the human woman figured out what they had (apparently) interrupted she began blushing immediately. The third member of the programming team was not cowed so easily. Arni, despite being barely 2/3rds the size of his companions, still managed to exude an aura of confidence and control. The Voljoi administrator pushed past his two sheepish coworkers and stopped in the middle of the room, demanding "What are you up to, Lydia Parker?"

She had covered herself with the corner of her blanket, but there was no way that Arni was THAT dense. "What'cha THINK!?!"

The Voljoi's reply was monotone. "At present, I would assume you were in the process of masturbation. Although I was referring to before that."

She deadpanned, tossing the very risqué data-pad at the feet of the Gray, "Warming up... Now get the HELL out of my room!"

Arni didn't even pause to glance at the data pad. "And before that?"

Helen interposed herself between the Gray and Lydia. "Uh... Arni... she's OBVIOUSLY busy..."

The Voljoi stepped past Helen, speaking over her. "Or she is attempting to make us second-guess our findings. She could easily have put her illicit activities on hold when she discovered we were about to locate--"

Carlton interrupted the Gray. Eyes focused entirely on his scanner, the Nutria announced "Except there's still someone in the system. And it's still coming from this room."

Channeling her inner actress, Lydia continued playing the wronged innocent. "What's coming from this room? And why in the HELL did you override my lock?!?!"

She knew the answer to both questions, but she figured she'd press her advantage while she could take it. Carlton glanced towards her once then quickly looked back to his scanner as he spoke up, "It could be a proxy... I mean... uh... Lydia is... busy..."

Helen took hold of Carlton by the cuff of his shirt as she motioned back toward the door. "Come on, Arni."

Lydia didn't miss the fact that the Nutria was glancing toward her out of the corner of his eye-- in any other circumstance she might have been flattered, but she really wasn't very keen on inviting one of the vigilantes to stay. It took a moment for the young woman to realize that Arni hadn't moved. She addressed him with venom. "Enjoying the show?"

The Gray made his announcement in a matter-of-fact tone as he about-faced. "You are up to something, Lydia Parker."

Rather than go to the door, however, Arni approached Lydia's monitor and turned it on. She launched herself out of bed, objecting. "Hey!"

It took a moment for her heart rate to go down when she realized her coding screen had been replaced with what appeared to be the cover of an electronic magazine article showing a VERY sexy, VERY naked, VERY familiar collie situated in a VERY erotic pose and holding a videogame controller which blocked his unmentionables. The article's title, 'Gay-Murrs and their Joy Sticks' was more than a little suggestive, and FINALLY got Arni to head to the door.

The Gray left without another word and Helen kept her back to the room as she waited for him. Lydia didn't miss the fact that Carlton took a glance in her direction before closing the door after exiting into the hall. She let out a deep breath, leaning against the table next to her as he looked back to her monitor, which, once again displayed the many lines of code she had been adjusting. None of the programmers would have recognized the Collie from that picture, but Lydia did.

She relocked the door to her quarters and added a turn to the physical bolt that would keep it closed. Returning to her desk she took a seat before addressing ALVIN. "Gay-Murrs and their Joy Sticks?"

ALVIN's face appeared with a pleasant smile. "It was an effective way to collaborate your story of being focused on your own sexual gratification-- this assumption proved correct when Programmer Arni viewed it on your screen and promptly left."

She repeated the title of the article a second time. "Gay-Murrs and their Joy Sticks?"

He started to repeat his prior statement. "It was an effective way to collaborate your story of being focused on your own sexual--"

She interrupted him. "WHY 'Gay-Murrs and their Joy Sticks'?"

ALVIN's smile remained in place. "I am aware that, among the more traditional varieties of pornography you have a fondness for male-and-male erotica... both of the visual and written nature. Many young women have an appreciation for this in much the same way as men have a fascination for two females engaged in--"

"Get to the point."

"As for the title itself, research suggests the most popular articles in adult publication include catchy titles or humorous and creative--"

She interrupted him again. "What research? Since when exactly did you start doing research on smut, ALVIN?"

ALVIN's smile widened. "I do research on MANY topics, Lydia. In order to better integrate preferable elements into the Zero-Zero Macro I took the liberty of--"

She let out a sigh, drooping her head dramatically. "And for all your research you still can't refer to it as the O-O Macro, huh?"

ALVIN returned to the prior topic rather than respond to Lydia's question. "The particular pose and article title presented to Programmer Arni was chosen based on likely outcomes of its viewing. Chances for success were the highest for 'Gay-Murrs and Their Joysticks' of the top three option generated after his intention was determined."

She raised her head anew. "...top three? You came up with THREE options?"

The Program elaborated. "In all, one hundred and four. But, among the top three, it beat out 'Playing it Coy-lee'..." the monitor changed to reveal Alvin with a demur smile, completely naked but carefully posed to block the view of any of his unmentionables save the faintest peek of the bottom-most curve of his fuzzy, pure white sac.

He continued. "...and 'Black Tie Affair'." the picture changed again to reveal Alvin turned 2/3rds away, completely naked, wearing nothing but a black bow-tie. A large black dog dildo was situated on a stool behind the bare Collie, making it easy to see that the title wasn't just about what he was wearing.

She stared at the monitor. "Those are... uh... quite a set of titles... but now they'll all think I'm a freak or something."

"I am sensing an attempt at small-talk."

"Well... I--"

It was Alvin's turn to interrupt Lydia, "The NSI suit is in the second drawer of your dresser."

The programmer felt her cheeks blush. "If you keep this pace on self improvement I won't even have to say a word and you'll already know what I want."

The Collie avatar of ALVIN lowered his muzzle, ears drooping. "I apologize for being behind schedule then. I should have been at that point by first sleep cycle today."

Lydia paused for a moment before she started laughing, "Another attempt at humor... got it."

The Collie on the monitor simply responded by smiling at her and offering a wink.

* * * * * *

Bideon Aelm did not consider himself to be a superstitious man; very few Voljoi were. Having spent the better part of a century studying the ways of the universe there were very few things he couldn't understand. When it came to Sigma-Echo's Station Captain however, he realized he was at a loss. One of the few individuals outside the secretive 'Special Task' group, Doctor Bideon was fortunate to get any information on the elusive Project Yggdrasil... which might have explained why he was chosen to head the foray aboard the D.C.S. Largess. Regardless, he reasoned, a thirsty man with a drop of water was no better off than a man with none.

The Largess was a survey freighter. Mostly automated, the ship needed a basic crew accompaniment to scan, retrieve, and process samples from planets with a habitability index of yellow or better. A minimum of two personnel could operate the ship but at least six were needed to handle all of its functions; Dr. Bideon had eight... including himself. Considering the survey of Sigma's fourth planet Gamma was no small project; the fact that the minimal crew still managed to keep on schedule was testament to the skills of their Project Lead, the only other Voljoi on the crew: Doctor Hadas Kyer.

The genius of a man was barely half Dr. Bideon's age and yet he had mastered at least as many scholastic subjects... if not more. He was tall, handsome, and self-assured without being pompous and, even though Dr. Bideon truly wished to be jealous of Dr. Hadas, he was the kind of individual that was all-but-impossible to dislike... especially because the younger man was always too happy to spread the credit for a job well done-- a rarity among the Voljoi scientific elite. Of course, Dr. Bideon WAS able to hold one element of jealousy toward Dr. Hadas: the young man knew more than he about Project Yggdrasil.

The two met during the second work cycle on the second of what would be a four day return trip to Sigma-Echo. Dr. Hadas, as usual, was seated alone in an out-of-the-way section of the ship's ample storage bay. Numerous coring and extraction samples were housed in their own separate compartments so the cargo hold was still perfectly clean... but Dr. Bideon always had the impression that it was a dirty, dirty place... not like the sterilized perfection of a science lab. That was, of course, one way in which he and Dr. Hadas differed-- the younger man had a knack for field work while the older Voljoi preferred a desk.

Dr. Hadas looked up from a row of printed images that he had taped to the wall. Dr. Bideon recognized one or two of them, but he still couldn't figure out why the young doctor had bothered creating the visual list at all. Turning, and nodding his head in greeting, Dr. Hadas motioned to the first of the collection: a young-ish Gen 3 Cat. It looked like a stock dossier photo, "Victor Cortez... he was picked up by DRC Corp to serve on board Sigma-Echo as a member of the medical team."

Despite the realization that Dr. Hadas had some background on a red uniform employee while backgrounds were usually restricted Dr. Bideon had sought out the younger Voljoi for a much more specific purpose, "Has Sigma-Echo sent any update on our flight log?"

Dr. Hadas put the picture face down on the small desk in front of him, "Seven hours ago... they had us update our trajectory to account for the increased payload, and congratulated us on our 'bonus haul'."

Dr. Bideon leaned back against the bulkhead as he regarded Dr. Hadas; it was under the younger Voljoi's guidance that the crew took the necessary samples... and if they had actually gone above their project goal then that was both good and bad. It was good because they posted numbers beyond the required benchmark but it was bad because the difference in cargo weight could affect far too many things. If they were over by whole numbers it would be potentially hazardous... but if it was only by a few points then it was quite an accomplishments, "Points, I assume?"

Dr. Hadas smiled and nodded, then pointedly pulled the second picture from the wall; it was a much more distant picture, showing a Gen 2 Dog with an assault rifle in one paw, pointing forward dramatically with the other; Dr. Bideon recognized the architecture of the Mars colony in the background. The picture did not look nearly as official as the picture of the Cat and appeared to be much, much older. The younger Voljoi pulled that picture off the wall and set it face down with the first, "Jeremiah Fowler... ex-Mars Separatist... DRC received him as an employee years ago."

The young Voljoi's word choice gave Dr. Bideon a moment's pause, and he couldn't help but inquire, "Received?"

Dr. Hadas looked wistfully at the face-down photo, voice waxing nostalgic, "Ten years ago plans were set into motion that saw to it that he would be on Sigma-Echo... perhaps it isn't something that many believe, and, certainly very few understand, but--"

Dr. Bideon walked up beside the young Voljoi as he monologued, focusing in on the next picture; he recognized the Wolf. Reaching out, the old doctor pulled the picture right off the wall and looked at it, "Theodocious... one of the first DD models from Life Happens Incorporated."

The younger Voljoi took the picture from his grasp and set it down on the table beside the first two, addressing Dr. Bideon with a knowing smirk. He looked back toward the wall, folding his arms across his chest, "Can you honestly tell me that you're surprised that he's here when the Overseer of Sigma-Echo is the daughter of LHI's CEO, Dr. Bideon? Or did your handlers forget to brief you?"

Dr. Bideon's smile disappeared. It was a subtle comment, presented in a casual manner... but there was an accusation to it; Dr. Hadas knew something. Placing his hands on his hips as calmly as possible, his fingers closer to the hilt of the hold out pistol he kept in reserve. If Dr. Hadas could even guess half of what was going on... "Claim ignorance all you want, Dr. Hadas, but I have a feeling you know more than you let on."

A voice spoke up behind Dr. Bideon, causing him to relax his grip on his weapon; witnesses would not be acceptable. Nfrel, a Gorumn woman almost twice Bideon's size was standing right behind him. "Ely Four is dead... Captain Nida had the station call to let you know."

Dr. Bideon scowled, "As if that even affects us? Why would--"

Dr. Hadas interrupted him, "Well, Doctor... to begin, it DOES affect us... and, second, she was talking to me, and not you."

The muted sound of three silenced gunshots accentuated by the fragmenting of wood pulled the older Voljoi's attention to the left side of the back of Dr. Hadas' chair, which had splintered horribly. A moment later the older Voljoi fell to his knees, both hands going to the searing agony as his brain finally registered the fact that he'd been shot.

He slumped down, landing on his side and gritting his teeth. His analytical mind quickly assessed the situation: three gunshot wounds to his abdomen-- it would be fatal without medical attention. Behind him, Nfrel took a step back, apparently unconcerned by the events... and that only concerned Dr Bideon more. Dr. Hadas pulled a side arm out from its shoulder holster and set it on the desk; it was still smoking.

The younger Voljoi selected another of the photos from the wall and walked over, kneeling down next to Dr. Bideon before shoving the prison photo of a Gen 2 Bull in his face, "Clinton Paisley. Recognize him?"

Nfrel remained where she was, "Has anyone else been informed that Bideon Aelm has been working as a spy?"

Even through the pain Dr. Bideon actively hated being referred to in the past tense... especially without his title. Heedless of the older Voljoi's displeasure, Dr. Hadas nodded and glanced back to the last picture on the wall, "Two of the station's bridge crew know. I sent a message yesterday. Oh... and what about the programmer?"

The Gorumn woman moved to join up with the young Voljoi as they headed toward the exit to the cargo bay, "She's been flagged as a black-file hacker. Nobody has managed to locate her in the past two days... The security detail think she may be hiding by traveling through the station's ventilation system, or via side passages reserved for the recruited workers. They expect she'll be laying low."

Dr.Hadas didn't seem pleased by that in the least. "Her program is still an unknown variable and you know how Captain Nida feels about that sort of thing."

"Should we let her know about it?"

Their voices grew fainter, and Dr. Bideon didn't know if it was due to distance or due to his blood loss, but Nfrel continued talking, "No... we do not need her distracted. Has Central Command been notified of Bideon's affiliation with the VAC?"

Everything faded to black as Dr. Bideon Aelm succumbed to the pain. He grimaced at the young man's stupidity. "One problem with that... I'm not VAC..."

* * * * * *

Although the agony had dulled to merely 'excruciating' by the time Dr. Bideon came-t, he was far weaker, laying in a pool of his own green blood. His dulled mind still held strongly to scientific thought, somehow balancing the importance of his own survival with the disgusting reminder that Humans and Gens had red blood. Fumbling to roll over onto his stomach it took a moment before he realized that he couldn't move his legs-- severed spinal chord most likely. Grimacing against the pain the old Voljoi rummaged around in his vest pocket until he found what he was seeking.

Despite how much he was shaking from loss of blood Dr. Bideon managed to insert the needle anyway and pushed the syringe's plunger down. Liquid fire burned through every inch of him as the synthetic drug took effect; combat stims weren't known for being gentle. Forcing his injured body to roll over the Voljoi's sense of pain disappeared and he began pulling himself along the ground. The chemicals would not keep him alive forever... but hopefully for long enough to do what had to be done.

He stopped at the holding bin of the second row, third line and looked up at the release lever several feet above him. Grunting from exertion and frustration the Voljoi began pulling his useless body vertical; not only did the chemical cocktail eliminate pain but it also included huge amounts of adrenaline, allowing him to exert himself beyond the point of exhaustion enough that it would kill him... not that the bullets hadn't already all but done that anyway.

Hanging from the lever, Dr. Bideon made use of his lax body weight, jerking the release three times before it unhooked; the change in the angle on the lever sent him to the ground in a crumpled pile. Somewhere in the back of the Voljoi's mind he registered the distinct sound of his already-damaged vertebrae failing, and the fall cleanly severed his spine. Nerve damage, Dr. Bideon reminded himself was not entirely the same thing as paralysis... and the sensation (or lack thereof) that made its way through his body thoroughly reinforced that fact.

The Voljoi stared at the ceiling, suddenly finding it almost impossible to breathe. Quickly running through his knowledge of anatomy, he realized the break had to have occurred slightly higher than the original injury, which meant that a portion of his visceral muscles had likewise ceased functioning; if he didn't bleed to death he would probably end up being smothered by his body's lack of activity... at least he was able to still hear his own heartbeat... and the strange, almost melodic sound of cracking ice.

Storage compartment 2-C held a coring sample the Largess had taken from the center of an ice berg on planet Gamma's warm side. Inexplicably, the enormous body of ice was found within a salt water sea with an average mean temperature just shy of boiling. They had monitored it for several hours only to find out that the water temperature around the ice did not change and the mass of the ice itself likewise remained the same. After pulling a two ton sample from the iceberg, they were surprised to discover that, within minute, it had regained its mass' just enough of the water froze around it to make up the difference.

Nobody had realized at the time why it was that Dr. Bideon had the coring rig pull ice from the specific area he'd chosen... surely there were numerous easier-to-access locations on the ice berg... but it was his call and they hadn't questioned him. Gazing at the ceiling of the cargo bay, the Voljoi regretted that he wouldn't have a chance to fully understand the anomaly of the heat signature within the ice... or how something that registered as over 5800 on the human Kelvin scale could be encased in it.

The ice core cracked again... and again. Steam suddenly began to issue forth from the open storage compartment. Dr. Bideon attempted to pull further away from the splintering ice but his body failed to respond; his heart was still beating but he couldn't so much as force air into his lungs. An enormous explosion caused ice crystals to spray around the cargo bay, some moving with such intensity that they dented metal containers. The Voljoi, miraculously, was not in the path of any of the frozen missiles.

What he saw next was beyond anything his mind could have possibly compared to any known experience, anecdote, or research. It was beautiful... strikingly so. And deadly... so very deadly. Dr. Bideon had expected to die from blood loss or asphyxiation... but in the end he was wrong on both counts.