Chapter 38: Planned Obsolescence
"Unknown craft, this is Ceres Control. Identify."
"This is civilian vessel Nova, Captain Robert Maxwell responding," I said through the radio.
"Ah, Captain Maxwell. Welcome back," the flight controller said cheerfully. "It's been a while."
Yup, they knew me by name here. I coasted into the asteroid, docking with one of the several available ports. This one was set up much better than the Conviers' asteroid base--that's what billions of taxpayer credits, spent off-budget, will get you! Bright corridors, precise climate control, top-of-the-line technology.
Dr. Agon must have heard I'd arrived, as he greeted me just outside the docking area. "Robert!" he cheered. "So nice to see you again." He shook my hand. "How are you doing?"
"Uh, I've been better. I came to get checked out. Had a pretty rough time lately. I want to make sure everything's working. I've seen a lot of red lights."
We strolled through one of the base's many corridors, leading me to one of the examination areas. We chatted as we walked. "That was some war," he said.
"You're telling me. At least it's over."
"And I hope it stays that way! The Orion isn't quite ready for prime time, and I'm sure the people working on that project would not have liked to see it destroyed right out of the gate."
"Oh, I'd imagine." Yep, the Orion--one of those expensive prototype projects. Over budget, behind schedule, with three prototypes being built. They were Orion-1, 2, and 3. I assume they had different names for the final versions, but you didn't put an official name on something that hadn't flown yet, I suppose. I'd popped in and taken a look at them a time or two. They looked pretty impressive, but that didn't mean much. The Protector wasn't a very striking ship, but she kicked some serious ass over the years. I hoped they weren't sacrificing function for style.
The Doc rattled on for a good while about new advances in cybernetics, and I only half paid attention. We did walk by several observation areas, where I saw other people with what were very obviously cybernetic implants. "This war's been very good for research. Perhaps that's morbid, but it's true. I've had an influx of patients with severe injuries, limb loss, irreversible organ damage. It's been a great boon, both to our work and to the individuals I am trying to help."
"Is that so?" I paused, watching one young one man, stretched out on a table, his arms and legs replaced by machinery. The artificial skin wasn't in place yet. He flexed his fingers, probably involuntarily. It took a while to really train your body to use your new parts. The brain has to figure out how to operate it. But this guy's parts looked a lot better than mine--smaller, sleeker. More refined control.
"We've been experimenting with deeper integration of the biological and the artificial. We've grown organs that produce their own anti-rejection drugs. Artificial skin is no longer so artificial. In fact, we run blood vessels through it. It keeps the parts warm, and if you're ever in a hypothermic situation, you can crank down the internal cooling system, and let the blood carry the waste heat throughout your body--you'd never freeze to death unless your kinetic power cells ran dry. And you've learned from experience that is rather rare."
I have to admit, I was a little jealous. It sounded like they'd made a ton of advances in the last thirty years. I'd seen some of them, a little bit at a time, but I can't honestly say I paid that much attention. Too busy doing my job, pushing what I already had to the limits. I filled out periodic reports for him, and I hoped they were a big help in developing the next generation. Still, it made me feel slightly obsolete.
We finally made it to the exam room, where he had me stand on a small platform. He took his position at a console nearby, located behind a large window, and set off the examination equipment. Scanning devices sprung out of the walls and floor, circling my body, analyzing my entire system, inside and out. I had to stand there with my arms outstretched for about ten minutes, while the machines had their way with me. They produced a mountain of information for Dr. Agon's benefit. When the scans completed, he led me out of the room.
"It will take a few minutes to get the results," he said, "so we can go wait in my office."
He brought me to his office, an admittedly familiar environment. I sat down across from him. All his degrees and certifications adorned the walls--more impressive than Admiral Degenstein's assortment, in all honesty. There was a picture of him shaking hands with the President, right in the center of his collection. Classy.
"I was very sorry to hear about your recent retirement," he began. "I was looking forward to many more years of field data from you."
"Well, sorry to disappoint," I grumbled, folding my arms. "I didn't exactly have a choice."
"I won't press you for details, but please be sure to check in with me from time to time."
"You gonna have an upgrade for me or something?"
"Possibly. I'll have to put you on the waiting list, I'm afraid. I've been so busy lately, thanks to the war. I'd have to find somewhere to fit you in for an overhaul."
"Well, I don't really have anything else to do. What if I hung out here full-time?"
He shrugged. "I can't see a purpose to that, Robert. Your cybernetics will rarely be stressed in this environment. I have all the prototypes I need. I don't mean to be insensitive, but you're an old model. I have my doubts about how much more we can learn from you."
"Gee, thanks."
"I don't mean to offend, it's just reality. Your kit is thirty years old. It works very well for what it does, but it's far from being state-of-the-art anymore. You can be most helpful to me by simply keeping me updated. I'm curious to know how many years we can get out of this equipment--forty? Fifty? More? It will be some time before we have another candidate with as many operating hours as you have."
I sighed. "Fine, I guess I can do that. So, no upgrade?"
"Not unless you think you need one." An indicator on his desk lit up. "Ah, your results are in." He scanned the screen in front of him. "Hmm."
"What is it?"
"I see you were exposed to vacuum. More than once. I've told you that's not a good idea, haven't I?"
"It wasn't on purpose, Doc."
"Right. Well, it seems you are mostly in good shape, here. You have some underlying systems damage, and some sensors that have gone out of whack because of the extreme conditions you've been exposed to. I'll send you down for some calibration and a course of chemical repairs. It'll take a couple hours."
"That's fine."
"Good. Just head on down to level 3 and tell them I sent you. They'll fix you up."
I could tell he was just about out of time for me, so I shook his hand and we said our goodbyes. I went down two levels like he said, sat in a little clinic where they pumped some chemicals in through an access point on my arm, reset a bunch of sensors, made sure all the diagnostics passed. It took three hours. Just three hours of sitting around with nothing to do. Boring, boring, boring.
I was so glad when they finally cut me loose. I went to my ship, got cleared for departure, and booked the hell out of there.
I cleared the asteroid belt pretty quickly, heading back toward Earth. Not for any particular reason, really, just to float around ES1 and see if there was anything interesting going on. Not like I had something special to do.
But that damn sensor artifact showed up again. This little dot, bouncing around on my tactical display. I wasn't too worried about it--that is, until it was right on top of me, and a shot of some kind went across my bow. I opened a comm channel on all frequencies. "What the hell? Who's shooting at me?"
"Kirax sends his regards," a gruff voice chattered. I spun my ship around, trying to get a look at whatever shot at me. No luck--they were too maneuverable. They managed to stay out of my field of view. So, I maxed out the thrust and ran like hell.
Who the fuck is Kirax? I wondered, though I didn't really have a lot of time to worry about it. The son of a bitch kept shooting at me. Figured it was a hired gun, since he was attacking me on behalf of someone else. I just needed to get to a fold vector and split. I approached the one that went to Proxima, but I wasn't quite close enough yet.
I powered up the FV drive, and the assassin managed to send a shot right up my engine. It didn't matter if I wasn't right on top of the FV yet--my ship was about to be toast.
I activated the drive. He got another shot in. A bunch of warning lights went off. I'd never seen them, and only I had a split second to figure out what they were telling me. Not long enough.
Everything went white. I felt like the universe was pulling me in a million different directions at once, as it tore itself apart.
Were it possible at that moment, I would have screamed.
Chapter 38
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Nice writing, Jimmeh.