Law's Axis

By GA Douglass

For Kassad Mir, captain of the independent vessel Sabha, it was supposed to be a simple courier run. Deliver the data recovered from the Law's End expedition to a research center where it could be utilized to advance scientific understanding. For Ursula and Hank Greene, the couple made famous by the Law's End rescue, it was supposed to be the start of a long overdue vacation. After separation for over a year by distance and events it would be their chance to start fresh.
For Canis, former customs service dog, it would be another chance for excitement and adventure.
Complicating the straightforward task are those who want the Law's End data for themselves, a sadistic Lawship captain pursuing a vendetta, and those who fear what the data represents and want it destroyed.
Because knowledge changes everything.

• Language: English
• Publisher: GA Douglass
• Release date: Jan 18, 2016
• ISBN: 9781310714788

GA Douglass

GA Douglass is a trained IT professional holding a BS from SLU who served in the United States Navy and has worked in the electronic security industry. Aside from writing science fiction his interests include history, science, and creation of the odd artistic doodle. He lives in Dacula, Georgia with the obligatory cat.

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Law's Axis

By GA Douglass all rights reserved

Published by GA Douglass

Copyright© 2015 by GA Douglass, all rights reserved.

Cover art by GA Douglass

Law's Axis is a work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed in this book are, fictional, and any resemblance to real people or incidents is purely coincidental.

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Law's Axis

by GA Douglass

Prelude: Reserve

Facts are ubiquitous; as is our ability to ignore, misinterpret, and rationalize them away so we can do what we want rather than what the fact points us towards.

-The Collected Wisdom of Herself.

A voice cleared to submit a request, hesitated in consideration of the risks, and then finally demanded, All information.

In spite of instantaneous communications there was no immediate reply. Impatient fingers drummed on the desktop until he deliberately stopped the nervous action. He moved the fingers to close around the starship hull metal pin on his lapel depicting six stylized equines. His thumb distractedly stroked the pin's polished surface which reminded him of his community and the protection that community provided him.

He was after all a professional making a professional request. Long years of study and training had taken him from his roots as the son of two garden workers in a spacer settlement to head of medical research at that settlement's Primary Care and Research facility. In accordance with his education, position, and responsibilities he had every right to access the information he was requesting.

Finally the deconstructed, compiled, and reconstructed voice on the other end of the quantum communications network responded, It was our understanding that your patients were responding to the treatments. If this is the case then there is no need for further information from our archives.

It was strange to think of himself as having patients as that linked him to a medical profession that hadn't really existed in thousands of years. Caring for the sick and injured was the domain of infinitely patient, precise, errorless, and inexhaustible machines. He was a researcher interested in the abstract and obscure aspects biology, and yet here in this instance he did have a responsibility to those effectively under his care.

Gesturing to the lobby beyond the crystal clear walls of his office the researcher implored, Yes and my patients, the word felt strange in his mouth, are about to be discharged without benefit of a comprehensive baseline assessment. I need the data from all of the tissue tests that the University has conducted beyond Law's End to formulate that baseline.

His gesture to the lobby was a pointless bit of theater lost on his audience but noted by at least one of his colleagues who nodded sympathetically from their office across the lobby. Most of his colleagues were just arriving for their work day where he had been in his office for most of the settlement's night cycle arguing with University officials and only gradually making his way up that chain of command to someone who could clear him to access the data.

Unsurprisingly the response he got was little changed from what he'd been dealing with all night as the University official replied, If such data exists there is no record of it in my files.

Of course the data might well not exist. It was impossible to say what was and was not within the University secure archives without actually accessing them. It was a small hurdle few University officials would undertake without dire and pressing need.

Exercising all the patience he could muster the researcher said, I need you to check the University's secure archives. If you can tell me that there's nothing in there that's fine.

It was like talking to a wall made of bureaucracy so dense it had physically manifested itself. Access to the University's secure archives requires approval from no less than a University certified class nine mind.

Seeing a glimmer of hope to advance the topic beyond the circular series of transfers and deferrals the researcher exclaimed, Great! I've already got Professor Cameron's approval, he's the University's leading class ten mind, am I right?

Rather pointedly the University representative responded, My records show Professor Cameron is on personal leave at the moment.

They didn't say no, but that's what they meant. It was the political lesson that had been taught by Herself; never say no. There were many ways of not saying yes that were not as confrontational as saying no. The University took the lesson to heart and employed it at every level of their bureaucracy.

Determinedly optimistic the researcher explained, Yes, that's because he's here. His daughter was on the expedition that got trapped beyond Law's End. I have Professor Cameron standing by and can bring him into the conversation if you need his personal authorization.

Cameron had said to call him day or night if his authorization was needed. The University certified class ten mind had smiled knowingly when he had said this. Obviously the man's familiarity with the byzantine nature of University bureaucracy was virtually prescient.

Reluctantly the University bureaucrat replied, I'll have to set up a conference with the University secure archives committee. Perhaps in two weeks I could schedule something.

Groaning internally as he once again launched into a vigorous call for action the researcher stared longingly past the PC&R lobby into the endless green valley that was the Mareville settlement. It was supposed to be his day off and somewhere near the settlement's daylight simulating roof he knew some friends had gathered to strap wings on their arms and fly in the microgravity found there. He was supposed to be there with them, in pursuit of particular romantic interests, but instead was trapped in his office wrestling with University bureaucracy.

Built along the inside wall of the spherical Mareville settlement the Primary Care and Research structure was a true state of the art medical care center. Most people would never require the services of such a facility as the more mundane self contained automated medical pods were more than capable of dealing with mundane injuries and ailments. Only truly unusual cases, like that for the survivors of the Law's End incident, necessitated a visit to such an extraordinary medical center.

Chapter 1: Hero

The General is always outranked by the specific because generalizations are generally wrong.

-The Collected Wisdom of Herself

As Kassad entered the Mareville Primary Care and Research facility he was still focused on how he would convince the Greenes to take alternate transport without tipping his hand. He'd agreed to the charter only to keep up appearances in the first place and it seemed to be one of those little white lies that had enough mass to become a black-hole of oblivion. This wouldn't be the first time Kassad found himself undone by some flippant remark he'd made.

No matter his lack of preparation Kassad could no longer put off the meeting. An unnecessary attempt at personal oversight of Sabha's refit had led to his being barred from the shipyards until the work's completion by the job foreman. Even Canis' steak which had taken nine hours to be custom grown in the settlement's protein vats was now gone, and along with it had gone the last of Kassad's excuses.

Immediately, as if sensing Kassad's distress, a robot greeter trotted forward to express its concern. Is there some sort of trouble Mister Mir? Have your symptoms re-expressed themselves? Are you experiencing complications with your treatment?

As a generic medical design the machine was clearly intended to maximize ease of sanitization with an almost seamless exterior and few joints that almost invited modification. Here the locals had adapted the machine to suit local tastes. Even its limbs ended in stubs decorated with stylistic embellishments so that they would more closely resemble hooves. Such embellishment to a machine was easy enough to implement and required only the creative will to do so.

As one of the faces involved in the now famous Rescue Beyond Law's End (soon to be a major multi-species formatted media presentation) it was no surprise that Kassad's artificially sculpted Arabic features were instantly recognized. Fortunately he wasn't as strongly connected to the popular perception of the events as Ursula Greene who was seen as the stylishly tall and fit wife who had risked her life to single handedly mount the expedition that rescued her husband. That the medical personnel in the PC&R and well beyond the Horsehead Nebula were obsessed with what these survivors could tell them about the medical implications of that mysterious region of space had done nothing to promote privacy.

In the crystal clear walled offices surrounding the entry hall the heads of local medical professionals turned their eager attention to the proceedings with barely contained enthusiasm so that Kassad felt the need to announce loudly, No, I'm just visiting friends.

Cheerfully switching gears without missing a beat the greeter announced, Visiting hours run until seven. Please respect scheduled patient rest times. While in the crystal clear walled offices surrounding the entry the heads of local medical professionals disappointedly went back to what they had been doing.

No one paid much attention to Canis. The dog had emerged virtually unscathed from Law's End without even so much as a complaint. What medical interest there had been in the dog's resilience had rapidly faded as being only worthy of interest to veterinarians.

For his part Canis ignored everyone and everything in order to remain focused on keeping pace with his person. Gone was the hyper-alertness and focus the dog had always previously displayed. Now Canis' was lethargic and expressed a subdued contentment that spoke to having over eaten.

As the lift carried them up to the patient wards Kassad admonished the animal's gluttony, I told you not to eat the whole thing in one sitting.

In response Canis merely licked lazily at the lingering meat oils on his muzzle.

Having communicated with his device the Hospital knew exactly where Kassad wanted to go. Through Kassad's device it verbally directed him through the mazelike interior to the Greene's suite. When Kassad arrived he'd had plenty of time to think about what he would say.

Leaning on the frame of the suite's entry Kassad looked over the happy couple. Ursula sat in the chair next to her now awake husband's bedside which had folded itself into something like a high backed couch. Her hand reached over to that of her husband their fingers caressed and intertwined, but the real connection was revealed in their eyes and the soft words they spoke to each other.

At a casual glance the room looked in every way exactly what the uninitiated would expect to see from media depictions; medical white and cream with splashes of pastel colors to offset the presence of ominous medical equipment. After no more than a moment's study strange details unique to the Mareville settlement began to leap out. Here the back of a chair with an overly stylized back, there a subtle pattern woven into fabrics, and doubtlessly many small flourishes that would take a more trained eye to pick out. Locals considered these details to be both good luck and an important part of the settlement's cultural heritage. Visitors from more civilized regions found the ubiquitous nature of the theme to be disconcerting even when they didn't consciously recognize it.

Still not having any idea of how he would convince the Greenes to take alternate transportation Kassad bluntly stated, You two look like you could use another week at least.

A pleasantly surprised Ursula Greene, now wearing the loose fitting charcoal colored fabrics of a University professional instead of the skin tight pressure suit Kassad had grown accustomed to seeing her in, announced his arrival jovially saying, Well, speak of the devil and he appears. We were just talking about you.

At the sound of the familiar voice Canis seemed to focus then took a few steps into the room before lying down on the floor. After a moment he settled his chin onto the floor between his forelegs. As everyone looked on Canis' tail slapped at the floor and he again licked at the trace meat oils on his face.

Concerned over the unusual behavior Ursula inquired, What's wrong with Canis?

Poking the dog gently with one toe Kassad replied nonchalantly, Oh him? He overate. Otherwise he's fine.

In spite of Canis' demeanor he was by all accounts in top shape. What physiological and psychological tests that were available for his species had revealed no lingering effects. Even his black, white, and brown coat, that tended to put Kassad in mind of a uniform, had been groomed to an immaculate state.

Looking over the animal dozing on his floor Ursula's husband, still dressed in the gleaming white PC&R patient gown, remarked dubiously, So this is the heroic space cop dog I keep hearing about? Then he abruptly changed topics with an almost contagious cheerfulness to inquire, So Ursa tells me you're some kind of smuggler.

Almost laughing at the description Kassad conceded the point, Well I don't like to brag, as it's bad for business, however I did once smuggle a giant space amoeba out of a quarantine zone.

While Ursula gave Kassad a more than skeptical look her husband was intrigued and inquired, Giant space amoeba? How big do amoebas get?

Spreading the thumb and pinky on his left hand to their maximum extent Kassad explained, They're harmless enough, but very fragile. The life support unit took up most of the cargo bay, and it took almost an hour to reach orbit.

As Canis' eyes closed sleepily Ursula continued putting an arm around her husband, I suppose I should introduce my husband Hank.

It was an unusual enough of a name to Kassad's ears to provoke him into inquiring, Hank, is that short for something?

Close cropped light brown hair and freshly shaved beard framed a face unrecognizable as one of the grime incrusted forms they'd rescued from beyond Law's End as the perfectly ordinary Hank smiled amiably saying, No, it's just Hank. It's a bit of a family name. I'm told it goes all the way back to old Terra.

Ursula Greene's husband wasn't quite as strongly built as his wife. He had that wiry athletic build that suggested he practiced one of the fashionable lightning fast martial arts for the social interaction it afforded, and not out of less civilized practical concerns. Kassad guessed that the man had never even considered raising a hand with real violent intent.

From a casual glance at the couple one would never have guessed that Ursula was the one with a desk job unless careful notice was paid to the man's hands. While only lightly calloused they were also covered with small scars of the sort one accumulated when they worked hands-on with machines. The blood-blister under Hank's left thumb may have been a leftover from the man's experiences beyond Law's End but Kassad suspected it was more in place than out of it.

Misjudging the nature of Kassad's appraising gaze Ursula was quick to add, Although it has been known to skip a generation here and there. And the couple shared a smile at the inside joke.

The impression Hank gave Kassad was as an amiable, thoughtful, and soft spoken person. More socially outgoing than his wife Hank had alert eyes that were quick to follow up eye contact with a friendly smile. He was almost the poster child for the gregarious extrovert technician that companies liked to identify with the customer service support for their products. He was someone accustomed through training and frequent application of his natural disposition to patiently working through complex technical problems efficiently and reassuringly.

Unable to mistake Kassad's reluctance for shyness Ursula demanded, Stop standing in the doorway like a stranger and have a seat.

Deciding that the situation called for as much honesty as possible Kassad explained, I don't want to intrude. I was just stopping by to check on you and see if I couldn't talk you out of chartering the Sabha. She's not really a passenger ship.

Casually Ursula dashed Kassad's hopes for an easy termination of their agreement. Not a chance. We intend to express our gratitude.

With a firm but friendly nod Hank added, You're stuck with us.

Holding up both hands palm out Kassad tried not to overplay his position. If you're worried about me you don't have to be. This really isn't necessary. I'll be fine.

Ursula Greene remained adamant, Shut up and accept our gratitude.

Ursa! Hank Greene exclaimed before catching on that the remark wasn't intended with any real belligerence.

Embarrassed by the rebuke Ursula apologized, I'm sorry. I'm still annoyed over my father leaving without saying anything.

It was as if a piece of a greater puzzle had slipped into place and Kassad quirked an eyebrow in interest. Your father was here? I would have liked to meet him myself.

Raising one eyebrow at the comment Ursula replied, I'm surprised you didn't see him at the trial. He works for a company that works for the big pan-Laniakea corporations settling legal problems in local jurisdictions. So whoever funded the Law's End research project has him on retainer through intermediaries, her voice rife with matter of fact disappointment Ursula added, or he wouldn't have been here at all.

For Kassad the thought of having to be versed and flexible enough in legal matters to function across the hundred thousand galaxies was an intriguing one. Internally he began to speculate on the possibility of a universal foundation for legal codes that might make such a profession practical. Doubtlessly there were algorithms that made such a system work, and their underpinnings were intriguing.

With a nod Hank added, He's the one who got us into the Law's End project in the first place.

With a frown Ursula bitterly concluded, Which I should have known better than to accept. I can't believe I let us get drawn into this whole mess. He's been doing this to me my whole life and… she looked down at her hands and shook her head, I should have known better.

Trying to put a more positive spin on things that could make the couple more amenable to his suggestions Kassad opined, I think all parents mean well. They just have a lot of baggage their children are never aware of.

While the bit of philosophy may have connected with the husband Ursula rejected it out of hand complaining, Oh, I'm aware of his baggage. I spent my childhood running from one end of Laniakea to the other because of his baggage.

Not wanting his wife to dwell on her past Hank quickly changed the subject saying, What we're trying to say is thank you. Even if you don't want to admit it you are a hero, and someone should recognize that even if it is just us.

Instinctively Kassad tried to downplay his importance. It was a job. All jobs are dangerous out here. A small belch from the floor drew Kassad's attention. If anyone is a hero here it's Canis. I don't know how he managed to hit the throttle, however none of us would have made it out without him, and he's currently digesting his reward.

Lying sleepily contented on the suite's floor a protein saturated Canis licked at the memory of steak oils on his muzzle for what Kassad thought surely must have been the hundredth time.

Pulling free from her past regrets Ursula commented, It's just a happy coincidence that we'll be released in time to make it aboard the newly refurbished Sabha.

Outwardly Kassad smiled amiably, but inwardly Kassad groaned. It was a bit of timing that could have been a lot better in his mind. Repairs of