Memoir of a Mad Scientist

By Erin Z Anderson

Trying to survive in an evil empire would drive anyone mad.

Dr. Jarian Voss has been a member of the Coalition's interplanetary empire for as long as he's been alive. As the highest power on the globe, they changed his life by sending him to the best schools from a young age and made him the cutting-edge scientist he is today

• Language: English
• Publisher: Erin Z Anderson
• Release date: Jul 1, 2021
• ISBN: 9798869337337

Book preview

Erin Z. Anderson

Prologue

Lights out, chimed the artificial computer voice with all the ceremony of an elevator arrival.

Shit! Throwing the pen with a curse, Jarian snapped with impotent frustration in the dark. Unable to see or distract himself with writing, cursing was all he had left.

Without a wrist com to tell the time, he had no way to know how long he had been in the cell or how much time he had left. There was a bed and a barred window set high in the wall, but neither offered any comfort as he waited to be dragged off to his execution.

He had managed to keep a notebook and was grateful for any form of distraction. Trapped with his thoughts, Jarian had been writing down everything that had happened, trying to make some sense of how he had gotten himself into this. It wasn’t helping his situation much, but anything was better than driving himself mad with worry.

The sudden shift from light to dark left him night blind, and he was stuck waiting while his eyes adjusted. Angry at the lights for going out and at himself for throwing the pen, Jarian slouched against the wall with a groan. His last meal sat uneasily in his stomach, the little synthetic protein and bread he had managed to choke down rolling uncomfortably inside him. Hello? he called tentatively to the automated system. Lights on? Computer! Light?

It had been a long shot, but the response was frustrating all the same. With no light and no way to activate one, Jarian resigned himself to the gloom with a sigh. Huddled on the bed, he glared out at the blackness of the room waiting for his eyes to adjust enough to see so he could write again… once he found the pen, of course.

Above him, the snowy moon shimmered through the bars on the window, casting long, striped shadows across the bare floor. The thin mattress sagged under his weight, but that hardly mattered. Even if the moon was out, he wouldn’t be sleeping tonight.

There were only a couple of feet between the door and the bed, so he wouldn’t have far to look for the pen. Searching with his hands as much as his eyes, Jarian checked the blankets before resigning himself to lean over enough to see the floor. Luckily for him, it had landed only a few feet away from the bed, and he was able to reach it without getting up.

Holding the pen up in the silver light, he considered the simple plastic stick, checking the tip for damage and making sure the casing hadn’t cracked before he tried to write with it. Again, his luck held, and the fall hadn’t hurt it more than a few scratches. Well, it was about time for something to go his way.

The guards hadn’t checked his pockets before throwing him into the cell, and Jarian doubted that they would have cared even if they had. The flimsy pen would make for a poor weapon, and Jarian knew he would have made a pitiful fighter even if it had been a pistol. Too bad he didn’t have an anti-airship laser array in his pocket.

At least with the pen and paper, he could keep himself from thinking in circles by writing.

Propped against the wall with one knee pulled up as a makeshift desk, Jarian touched the pen to his tongue and settled back where he had left off.

Growing up under the Coalition, I never had any reason to question their authority, and it wasn’t until recently that I even thought about rebellion. It’s hard to tell when things started to change, but if I had to guess, the treason started when they found the dead mechanic...

Chapter 1

I wasn’t there for the actual accident that day. I spent the morning working in the lab, trying to decide if I should keep fiddling with the broken laser array or if I should beat it into paper clips and be done with it.

Unfortunately, it was looking dangerously like I might give into my frustration as I battered my way through the wretched, malfunctioning prototype without any hint of what was throwing the frequency off. The latest design of the Advanced Vacuum Laser project—or AVL—was supposed to be our department’s next big development. Too bad it was a half-finished, temperamental diva of a system that refused to function.

It was a massive piece of machinery, even for an industrial-grade laser, and covered nearly the entire workbench. The AVL was designed to be mounted onto large starships, so it looked more like a cannon than anything and weighed enough to make lifting it a serious work out. Once it got out into space that wouldn’t be a problem, but here in the lab it was a beast to move and a hassle to deal with.

Hunched over the exposed wiring, I considered the problematic machinery while the seconds continued to chip away at my patience. My first thought had been to check the software, but that was a bust. I was hoping once I got into the physical machine, I would be able to see what was wrong. Even with the array cut open on the laboratory bench like a frog in an anatomy class, though, I still couldn’t get the damned thing to work.

A blast of sound crashed through my nervous system, making the whole room jump, and I dropped the screwdriver. I scrambled to my feet, but whatever had happened was over now, and the lab was still again. My heart was racing, and some of my hair had fallen over my goggles.

With the sleeve of my lab coat, I pushed my hair back and tried to collect myself. Looking around the lab carefully, nothing seemed out of place, and I forced myself back to the bench. Maybe the Chemistry Department was playing around with something more exothermic than usual. If it was important, I was sure I’d hear about it eventually.

Without the usual hum of activity, the room felt slow and sleepy. With its white walls and black benches, the climate-controlled air in the lab felt comforting and snug compared to the cold, drab winter morning outside. Cautiously, I lowered myself to the chair again, half expecting a second blast to go off at any moment. Inhaling the rich smell of wood and grease, I glowered at the fussy machine without success.

As per protocol, I was dressed in my protective goggles and white lab coat—the picture of laboratory safety. Scratching at the tight latex of my gloves, I prodded the unhelpful machinery with the end of a socket wrench. Until I found the fault, I couldn’t be sure if the problem was something I could bully my way through or if I would have to bend and interrupt one of the other lead scientists for help.

Making any progress, Dr. Voss?

I jumped at the sound and whipped around to confront Kovac, one of the assistant technicians. He was a big man in an even bigger white lab coat, and he had to bend at the waist to get close enough to see what I was working on. Given the amount of myself covered with safety equipment, I was surprised he’d been able to tell me apart from all the other skinny white lab coats with boring brown hair. Maybe if I invested in a wig, I could go undercover.

Sorry, he apologized through a smile.

You’re fine. Lowering myself back onto the stool, I adjusted my goggles and frowned at the machine. Kovac was an easygoing guy, and I appreciated his interruption even if it meant dividing my attention between him and the malfunctioning laser. I’m just a little jumpy. What the heck do you think that crash was?

I thought it was thunder.

Couldn’t be. I looked out the window to the drizzle outside. There’s no lightning out there.

Maybe there’s construction somewhere. Kovac shrugged it off. What are you doing here this early, anyway? I thought the AVL team wasn’t supposed to be in until this afternoon.

It’s this damn thing. I smacked the laser. It’s not the crystal matrix; that seems to be amplifying the light just fine, and it’s not the casing getting in the way. I don’t get it.

Kovac leaned in to peer into the casing. Too much heat? he suggested.

No, it’s not that, I grumbled. It’s kept well below room temp for tests. The thing is supposed to be used for asteroid defense on the extraterrestrial colonies, after all, so overheating won’t be an issue once it gets into space.

Giving the machine another jab with the wrench, I sighed. If I could just coax the prototype far enough to start testing in a vacuum, we’d really be getting somewhere. Unfortunately, there was a great big malfunctioning piece of junk between me and that happy day.

Ah. Kovac shook his head and flashed me a wicked grin. Guess you’re just screwed, then.

Gee, thanks. I rolled my eyes.

Wasn’t that one of General Holt’s projects? Kovac asked.

I guess, I said to the laser rather than the man. And at this rate, it’ll be the next director’s project, too.

Whatever happened to him?

Fired. I shrugged without looking up from the laser array. Too many projects that went nowhere, or something like that. That was back when I first started, so I wasn’t really paying attention. (Honestly, I wasn’t paying much attention even now.) Biting my lip, I was wondering if maybe the error could be in the user interface when the double doors to the lab burst open with a bang loud enough to make Kovac jump, and my wrench hit the table with a clatter.

Jarian Voss! There you are. I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Speaking of directors, the current model had found me. Built to the same shape and scale as a concrete wall, Brigadier Adelmar barreled through the laboratory door to shout at me from across the room.

Sir, you can’t come in here like that. Launching to my feet on behalf of safety protocol, I hurried to stop the brigadier. I’m sorry, but you’ll contaminate the equipment. You need a coat, gloves, and goggles if you’re going to come into the lab.

Then get your procedural ass over here before I come and get you myself! he shot back. He was technically my boss, after all, so I hurried to meet him before he decided to throw his weight around any further. Releasing one of the doors to bump against his shoulder, Adelmar checked the time on his wrist-mounted computer. I just got off the phone with the docking bay. The engine in one of the star liners just exploded.

So that’s what that was, Kovac jumped in.

I stole a guilty glance at the half-dissected laser. He would win, of course. The newest director of the Technology and Research Center had filled his position as well as he filled a room with his overwhelming personality. Still, I mounted what defense I could. But the AVL array… I began, both hands gesturing to the wreck the way a parent might remind their spouse not to argue in front of the children.

"Now, Voss," he snapped, already turning to go ahead of me to the scene of the explosion.

Throwing back my head to growl at the ceiling, I gave in. Do you mind cleaning this up for me? I asked Kovac as I began to strip off my gloves.

Sure thing, boss, the big technician grunted. He flashed me a wicked grin. You two have fun.

Ugh, I responded as I tore myself from the open laser and stomped off after Adelmar.

Don’t forget your uniform! Kovac called after me as I left the climate-controlled safety of the lab to follow my director’s orders.

________________

Separated by a thin layer of caution tape, I looked out at the mangled chaos that used to be the receiving bay. The entire front of the space freighter had been blown out and back, showering the landing pad with shrapnel. It was a Star Sloop, as big as a small house and just as aerodynamic. Magnificently engineered for bulk transportation between here and the colonies on the asteroid belt, the ship had been one of the finest space-to-Earth vessels… until the engines exploded.

Thick black clouds erupted from the ragged hole where the heart of the behemoth machine used to be. Fires burned where hot metal hit, and the air was choked with smoke. Panicked dock hands scurried to smother the flames while over a dozen first responders hurried with amazing proficiency between the ambulances and the wounded. The boy on the floor was definitely dead, and whether or not the doctors would be able to change that was still a matter of debate.

Brilliant white lights had been set up around the wreckage, slicing out chunks of the dim morning into glaring patches of daylight. First responders ran back and forth in a desperate struggle to keep up with the demand for supplies while masked paramedics crowded the boy’s corpse in a wall of reflective jackets. It was an impressive sight but, for all their effort, I couldn’t tell why they bothered. There wasn’t much left to save.

It was hard to see from where Adelmar and I stood, but I was fairly certain a human body usually had more… limbs.

Taking a moment to rub my eyes, I groaned against the glare. I was still struggling to understand why I had been ordered to attend, especially when I could be in my nice, quiet laboratory back at the compound. Next to me, Adelmar beamed at the scene like a proud parent watching a school play and not a well-dressed ghoul grinning at ground zero.

What happened here? I asked.

Next to me, Adelmar huffed out a breath and folded his arms. We’re not really sure. Officially, it’s being called an accident, but it looks like a target hit to grab the cargo.

Who would do that?

It was full of copper wires and steel sheets.

I puffed my cheeks and blew out a long breath. The last of the planet’s natural metal ore deposits had been mined dry years ago, so any usable material left was highly sought after. With that much metal in one place, it was no wonder it had been hit. The list of people who wouldn’t rob a shipment like that was shorter than the people who would.

Poor kid, was all I could think to say. I shuffled my feet, feeling out of place while the EMTs worked. At least tell me we caught the arsonists.

Adelmar shook his head. If there was something good to report, then we wouldn’t have to officially call it an accident.

I was wearing my Coalition uniform over my work clothes and was grateful for the warmth that its auto-adjusting fibers offered in the open air. Royal blue fabric with temperature-sensing technology built directly into the uniform hung nearly down to my knees while the gold epaulettes and trim matched the blue and gold of the Coalition’s flag. The high collar, starched until it stood proud like a soldier at attention, was the height of modern fashion even if it made me look like I had a dog cone around my neck.

Dressed in his own Coalition uniform, the brigadier looked every inch the proud military leader with his hands folded behind his back and his beard cut into a perfect old-world style, circling his mouth and lining his jawline. He was the real thing, too—a veteran of the war with experience in battle instead of some empty promotion for form’s sake. His crew cut had turned gray since his days on the battlefield, and his belly had filled out comfortably, but inside, the unshakable man had never really changed.

Next to Adelmar’s impressive silhouette, I felt like a sham in my Coalition blues. My doctorate gave me some of the same privileges as an officer in the military, but it wasn’t the same thing. I was a bit of an oddity, hierarchically speaking. As a child of the Coalition, I was too young to have served in the last war, but I was too smart to waste in a vestigial peacekeeping role in the military.

Without any regulations to stop me, I wore my hair in a loose cut that would have been normal anywhere else, but in the military compound, it looked practically garish. A private citizen like myself might bet to wear the uniform, but I might as well be a civilian next to a war hero like him. Pulling at my collar, I fidgeted with my blues before anyone of importance could see the difference between Adelmar’s crisp lines and my hurried getup.

But what does this have to do with us? I pulled my heavy Coalition coat closer around me. As a lead scientist at the Coalition’s Technology and Research Center, I was used to being called away from the lab, but usually the interruptions made a bit more sense.

Even in the dim shadows at the edge of the floodlights, I could see his bleached teeth flashing in a shark-like smile at the scene. We’re going to fix the cybernetics problem.

Even though his half-explanation begged for elaboration, I didn’t press him to continue. In the short few months Brigadier Adelmar had served as director of the Technology and Research Center, I had learned that my portion of the conversation was only a formality. Adelmar was the kind of man who could hold a conversation with a wall. He wouldn’t be able to hold his excitement in for long, so there wasn’t any point prodding him for more.

While I waited, I watched a pair of EMTs struggle to keep a heart bypass machine pumping with so little blood. Isolated from the turmoil on the other side of the tape, I pushed my hands into my pockets as I watched them tip oxygenated blood into the contraption in a desperate attempt to keep the body going long enough to restart the organic heart inside.

Given the advancements in medical technology—restarting hearts and stimulating brain functions—it could be hard to tell anymore when real death occurred, and I wondered if the time of death would be recorded as having been hours earlier should the operation fail.

Turning my attention from the paramedics, I looked at the patient the same way I had looked at the broken AVL array, noting the facts like items on a checklist. Between the paramedics in the way and the sheets covering the body, there wasn’t much to see, but my imagination was able to guess. Honestly, what was worse than anything I could see was what was missing. I didn’t need Adelmar’s comment about cybernetics to tell me that the patient only had half the usual number of limbs. While the paramedics fussed over his heart and chest, his shoulders had been left exposed, so I could take in the full extent of the missing appendages. Instead of arms continuing out from the torso the way they should, his body stopped short on either side of the neck in a pair of gauze-covered stumps.

Think about it, Voss. True to form, Adelmar continued speaking while I watched the operation, perfectly content to hold a conversation with himself. The Coalition’s anniversary is only a few weeks away, and this kid’s going to want prosthetics anyway. He’s the perfect test subject. We couldn’t have planned it better.

While I appreciated his salesmanship, unless he flat-out ordered me to change projects, I wasn’t about to drop the AVL without putting up some kind of protest. Shouldn’t we be focusing on the AVL? I asked. I would think the council would want to push the safety of their asteroid mines now that the planet’s ore reserves are used up.

Please, Voss, try to keep with the times, Adelmar chuckled as if the planet’s dwindling resources and rampant overpopulation were old news. Mining in the asteroid belt is undergoing tighter restrictions now that the latest colony thought to try and establish their own rule of law. I wouldn’t suggest telling the council we planned on sending an advanced weapon like that to those rebels.

Ah, so that was what was going on here. I would have to change tactics.

I massaged my eyes to keep the frustration from my tone. Sir, I’m a technology and applied physics specialist. This is something for health professionals.

I’m not worried about the health side of it, said Adelmar, effectively brushing away my objections by ignoring them. We know cloning limbs doesn’t work. I want to look at the mechanical side of cybernetics. He pointed at the hive of medical professionals buzzing around the patient still laying on the pavement. Think about him as a pilot for a ship.

I still thought of Adelmar as a blowhard and, worse, a bureaucrat, but at least he thought enough of me and my work to ask for my help rather than just ordering me about like his predecessor, General Holt. Now that man was a taskmaster no one missed.

I guess, I admitted, but Adelmar was already on a roll.

I mean, really, Voss. We have enough sensory technology to detect planets in distant galaxies, but we still can’t replace a missing limb? It’s just ridiculous. If modern science could fix the food shortage and unite the planet under one banner, surely we can tackle the problems with cybernetic implants.

Those are two entirely different things, I sighed through my teeth. Trapped next to him, the brigadier’s cologne was building up to toxic levels, and I was starting to worry I would never escape the cloud with both lungs intact. Detecting planets is a—

Voss, you know what I mean, Adelmar interrupted as smoothly as ever. He had a voice sweet enough to charm any politician, a deep rumble that resonated like a luxurious cat’s purr, and he poured on all his charm to coerce me into joining his latest scheme. What’s the point of having the Coalition’s funding if our department can’t even make prosthetic limbs that work correctly?

Back on the scene, the heart monitor chirped. On one of the portable screens, the flatline hiccupped as the organic heart twitched and, at long last, finally began to feebly pump. An exhausted cheer went up as paramedics and doctors allowed themselves a small victory in the face of the hours of work still left to do. On cue, one of the masked shapes peeled away from the group, leaving the other EMTs to approach the caution tape.

Brigadier Adelmar, Kazimir deadpanned. Pulling the surgical mask from her face with one bloody hand, the woman addressed us the way she might a pair of flies in her drink. This had better be good.

She was a broad woman; her arms and shoulders were built with the muscles needed to keep working for hours on end. With her hair hidden under a surgical cap and the scrubs masking her shape, it was hard to tell anything about her beyond the number of limbs the woman had. She might have tentacles or a tail under those scrubs for all I could judge.

Dr. Kazimir! Arms wide with greeting and a complete disregard for sterility protocols, Adelmar moved to shake hands with the woman before pulling up just short of her bloody gloves. So good to see you.

You called me away from my office for this mess, Kazimir folded her arms with a chilly frown, and I haven’t been able to sit down since. You had better have a good reason for this.

Adelmar swept his hand through his tight gray hair as if he had been planning to do that all along and forced his smile wider. Doctor, have you met my associate?

Crap.

Too late to retreat, I found myself seized by the arm in a forceful show of pleasantries. This is Dr. Jarian Voss from the Technology and Research Center. He was at the top of his class and is the department’s newest lead scientist.

Caught off guard, I barely had time to set myself to business mode. Union to you, I choked, giving the automatic military refrain. Uh… Doctor.

I don’t have time for this shit. Kazimir glared straight through me to snap at Adelmar. Make. It. Quick.

Safe again from social interaction, I retreated to a reasonable distance to stay out of Kazimir’s way. To my surprise, Adelmar got right to the point. Of course, Doctor. I am proposing a new study for a more advanced cybernetic prosthetic and wanted to know your opinion. We seem to have a ready candidate.

"You want that schlub? Kazimir jerked a gloved thumb at the boy being loaded into an ambulance. He’s a mess. Besides, I ran his paperwork already; he’s not qualified for military augmentation."

This is purely experimental, Adelmar assured her with a winning grin. We have to start somewhere, after all. Besides, if we’re building new machinery, we’ll need a new body to attach it to. With a fresh brain, we have the chance to introduce the technology without having to unlearn any old habits. Puffed up like a proud parent, he beamed. What do you say, Doctor? Are you interested?

Kazimir closed her eyes to think. I guessed that she would have massaged her temples had her gloves not been covered in body fluids. Will there be any new hardware for the central nervous system to computer interface with?

Dr. Voss? Adelmar deferred.

I doubt it. My mind already turning, I mulled over the idea. The problem isn’t the connection; it’s a combination of the computer interpreting signals plus the brain’s ability to tell strength and distance without a sense of touch. If we were somehow able to give it a tool to judge by, then there’s a chance the brain would be able to adapt to the new limb. I shook my head. I’d need more time to think about it.

Well, you could always use the neurons’ sodium channels if you want a sense of touch, Kazimir suggested. That’s what we use for flesh-to-machine communication already, so it wouldn’t be hard to reverse the process. Either way, he’ll be on the table a while. She glanced back toward the area where her team was struggling to keep the restarted heart pumping. The boy was elbows deep in an engine when it went off. Pretty nasty stuff. His hands got caught in the fans and blew the whole thing. The blood loss fro—

We get it, Adelmar gagged. Just give us a time frame, and we’ll get out of your hair.

Kazimir shrugged. We only just got the circulatory system going again, so it’ll be another few hours before we’re able to take him off the life support. Then, there’s the burns and the god-awful number the engine blades did to his shoulders. I can’t even think about implants yet.

Perfect! Adelmar clapped his hands together. Voss, you start on ideas while Dr. Kazimir gets our patient ready.

But what about the AVL array for the asteroid mining colonies? I begged before he could pull me away from the project. I was so close to getting the array to function! If he put me on something new, I might never get a chance to see the laser finished. You said it was top priority so the Coalition could get access to ore deposits on the asteroid colonies, and that was after you pulled us off the last project for an exo—

Forget that. He waved away my protests without breaking his stride. The rest of the team can finish it while you lay the groundwork for this project. The Planetary Council is worried about sending too many people into space, so colonies are a bit of a bad subject with them right now. Besides, the People’s Planetary Coalition’s thirtieth anniversary is coming up, and I want a real showstopper for the council.

Fine. Giving in to this latest interruption to my work, I let Adelmar have his way and turned back to Kazimir. Do you think you could send me his measurements so I know what dimensions I’m working with?

I can do you one better, Kazimir said, now addressing me instead of my superior. Kazimir’s frosty demeanor thawed considerably. I’ll send you a message once things stabilize here, and we can sit down to talk logistics.

Excellent, excellent! We’ll leave you to it, then. His mission completed, Adelmar’s focus did an abrupt one-eighty to the next thing on his to-do list. Come on, Voss; let’s not take up any more of the good doctor’s time. She has work to do.

With the same enthusiasm as ever, Adelmar made for the door, dragging me along in his wake by sheer force of personality. I plodded after Adelmar, toward the exit of the destroyed receiving bay, with ideas tumbling through my head. The entire building was big enough to house interplanetary shuttles as well as use for the storage needs of the research center, so we had a way to go. Adelmar was, of course, talking, but that was hardly relevant.

Already, dozens of possible ways to make an artificial arm more like a real one were crystallizing in my imagination, like precipitate in a beaker. Just adding some kind of computerized level would do a lot for positioning, plus maybe some kind of pressure sensor setup to create a sense of touch.

Sorry to pull you out of the lab, but I just couldn’t wait for the reports to filter through the official channels. We need something that really ‘pops’ for the council, and this could be it, Adelmar chattered, hands folded behind him as he walked. If we could come up with something flashy to show at the anniversary gala, we’ll have funding for life!

The real problem was power. There were plenty of small-scale sensors that would work, and we could even incorporate pressure-sensitive metal in the hands. Unfortunately, those things take up a lot of juice.

We have a shot at something big here! Adelmar exclaimed. External power wasn’t an option. Maybe I could try to slim the sensors down and keep the power needs as low as possible.

Sure, the laser array has potential. I’ll see about pitching some applications for that later this week, but if we could make cyborg implants a real replacement, that would be a game changer for us! At this point, Adelmar stopped in the middle of the hall to grab me by the shoulders.

I’ll level with you, Voss, Adelmar said. We’re not doing so well. Tech and research hasn’t produced something special since the People’s Planetary Coalition Party took control, so our necks are really on the line here. Without this funding, our department is going to close, and at our clearance level, the council isn’t going to just let us walk around knowing Coalition secrets.

Caught off guard, I struggled to catch up with the conversation. You don’t mean—

We’ll be noncontributors in a week, Adelmar hissed so no one could overhear, and I doubt they need much research done in the Reconstruction Zones. Just shoveling gravel and stacking bricks.

My throat closed up, and it took me a minute to get it working again. Why didn’t you say something?

Say what? Adelmar’s grip on my arms turned painful. We’re operating at a level where failure isn’t an option. Either we get that funding, or we start writing our obituaries.

I, uh—

But if we succeed… Adelmar’s eyes glittered. If you get this to work so I can sell it to the council… we’d be golden! Think about it; we could write our own funding checks!

Sure. This close to the source of his cologne, I was already starting to suffocate. Yeah, I’ll start working on blueprints as soon as I get back to the compound.

That’s the spirit! Beaming like the sun, Adelmar clapped me on the back. With one arm around my shoulders, he strode off, his eyes on the future. You’re a child of the Coalition, so you weren’t there before Unification. Trust me on this. We’ve got to make sure to impress the council, or we might as well be back in the trenches.

Excuse me? Failing to see how my age had anything to do with this, I glared skeptically at Adelmar.

You know what I mean. Adelmar waved an idle hand to magic away my angry comments. Reaching the exit at last, we abandoned the comfort of indoor heating for the icy winter air outside.

I stuffed my hands into the pockets of my coat and grunted. As the highest level in the government, the twelve party members on the Planetary Council effectively ruled the solar system. It had been the council that kept the planet turning after the Separatists’ War ended, rebuilding the world from scratch. And we needed something to impress them.

Alright, alright. Still put out about the threat of Reconstruction, I walked with Adelmar. I turned back to him. Do you have any idea how you’d like me to handle the power supply? It’d have to be rechargeable, of course, but I wasn’t sure if—

Just make it work. This is our big shot. Do whatever you have to.

Sure, I mumbled into my collar as I pulled my dress uniform tighter around me. The wind cut down to my bones, and I shivered while I waited for the coat to adjust to the difference in temperature. Sensing the change, automated sensors in the fabric adjusted the thickness of the uniform, turning the narrow fibers into a wonderfully thick weave. Warm at last, I heaved a sigh of relief before I turned back to Adelmar. Look, I’m sure you’ve got work to finish here. I’ll be in my office if you need me.

Not for the first time, I hated the revolving door mentality of the executive director’s position. If I had time to adjust to each new director, maybe I would know how to play Adelmar and get him to leave me alone. Hell, for that matter, maybe I’d be able to get something done without a new director constantly trying to make his mark on the position.

Great! Keeping pace despite my retreat, Adelmar pressed for plans. Keep me posted on your progress.

Of course. Turning to face the brigadier with my most serious expression, I put everything I had into this last attempt to shake him. Union to you, sir.

Oh, of course. Uh, union to you. Adelmar accepted defeat and left me to walk back to the compound alone.

With sweet silence to look forward to all the way back from the receiving bay, I strolled down Founder’s Avenue with my hands in my pockets. The day was fine and cool, and the sun was shining brightly over the capital. On this side of New Core, the buildings had the regal air of government funding, with swirling stone accents adorning the corners of office blocks or tall columns stationed at the doors of Coalition buildings. Banners brilliant with the blue and gold of Coalition colors rippled in the wind, proudly declaring support for the party on every street. Officials and tourists huddled in their overcoats as they made their way down sidewalks shaded with genetically modified trees, their leaves still brilliant green despite the cold.

The military compound where I worked was only a ten-minute ride away by cloud skipper, but the chance to enjoy the fresh air was worth the extra time it took to walk. Given that I lived and worked in the same building, I didn’t get out much, and I could use the exercise. My feet hit the plasticrete of the sidewalk while overhead traffic purred past—sleek-bodied skippers, stocky automatic transports, and even the odd human-piloted vehicle. It was