Gwen’s voice rose with alarm. “Now that we have diverted some resources towards the Gulf, their situation is worse than I thought. One of the US planes is more heavily modded than our projections. The damn thing is going to beat us there by 39 seconds. If it goes in shooting, then your skyscraper friends better have some missile countermeasures.”

Worry for Lauria spiked in Julius’ chest. If he was being honest he wasn’t only worried for her, but for all of the people on that ship. He had found a home there the likes of which he had never had before. “I’m sure they do.”

“Yeah. I’m going through their plans now and they’ll be OK as long as the weapon’s systems on that modded plane aren’t too exotic.” She paused. “I’ll keep you updated.”

“All right, so here’s the plan. We are still going to L3, but I’m sending five of the general response craft that I alloted for your extraction. I was really expecting more of a fight. Those beauties are pretty close to autonomous and designed to adapt to the situation within their specified instructions. So… what are those?”

“Save the Creator. Complete their mission. Convince the incoming vessels to retreat with minimum harm to the pilots.”

Gwen’s voice signalled confirmation, then proceeded, “And if we are too late and The Creator is down?”

He was resolved. He had been hit first. It was war. “First we establish comms with their commanders. We explain that they committed an act of terrorism on a private vessel in international waters on a humanitarian mission. Then we destroy those ships.”

****

“Why did you design this damn pod without a view screen? How am I supposed to know what’s happening?” Julius complained.

“Well,” the AI began, “you aren’t supposed to know what’s happening. I am designed to limit your interaction with the outside world until your safety is established. It’s just this whole friendly-spacefaring-vessel-attacked-by-your-home-country thing is a bit of a snafu in our extraction plan. I was supposed to be using this time to get you up to speed, but your character map suggests that if I don’t reprioritize saving your friends you won’t cooperate with anything moving forward.” She concluded.

“Damn right I wouldn’t cooperate. If that ship dies and there was something that I could have done to save it then I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself.” He trailed off, imagining the scenario. I would be inconsolable with guilt. If Lauria died while I was getting brought up to speed on old intel!? Shaking his head to return to the moment, Julius asked, “So when do we make contact with the planes and their masters?”

Responding quickly, Gwen said, “I have been reaching out to our contacts in the Defense Department. Given the level of chaos there since the Attacks, and the tenuousness of those contacts because of your ‘no weapons policy’, I’m not surprised we are getting the cold shoulder. It looks like it is going to come down to line of sight with one of the ships. About 20 seconds now.”

It was a long 20 seconds.

“I’m hailing the slower ship.” Gwen updated him.

“No answer.”

“The modified ship launched a missile towards The Creator.” Gwen’s simulated voice was dispassionate, a fact that Jules found himself very grateful for. He held his breath. “They intercepted it with a drone swarm.” He exhaled. “The ship is safe.” And then immediately “A second missile launched. It will be intercepted as well.”

Gwen continued to narrate.

“It was. Third missile launched. We have caught up to the slower planes. Missile intercepted. Two of ours will stay behind to deal with the standard vessels. Sending five interceptors to support The Creator.”

Jules listened, because that was all that he could do. “The first plane still won’t respond to hails. Attempting to block its flight pattern. Impact. Assessing. Fourth missile intercepted. Structural damage to the wing of the slower plane. It is retreating.”

Julius heard himself exhale in relief, as Gwen continued.

“Matching fast vessel trajectory. It has launched another missile. Deploying missile killer EMP. Missile is dead. Deploying missile capture. Missile captured inside the extraction craft. Evacuating the missile to L3 base. Hailing 2nd craft. No reply.”

There was a pause. “Now this should get their attention. Shadowing the engine intake of the modified vessel. It looks like they added a mini-version of the battery propulsion from the Creator. Ramming the engine intake and backing off to reinitiate the hail. Finally getting an answer. You’re up, Julius.”

“Julius Paine to pirate vessel attacking The Creator spacecraft engaged in humanitarian aid mission in international waters. Respond and retreat or be destroyed.” How is my voice this steady?

“USAF Montgomery to Julius Paine. You are interfering in a legal action authorized by the US government. Stand down and allow the vessel to be disabled.”

“Julius Paine to pirate vessel Montgomery. The US cannot authorize legal action against the Creator in international waters without the consent of the UN per the Auckland Anti-Piracy Treaty of 1947 to which the US is a signatory.” Where is this knowledge coming from? “You are required to provide the contesting party, that’s me, access to the consenting party within a reasonable amount of time. You have 15 seconds to do so or I will command my fleet to disable your vessel.”

In the ensuing seconds, Julius noticed details on the interior of the extraction craft that he had not noticed before. There was a bundle of cables hanging that had absolutely no reason to be there. At the acceleration the ship had achieved, the weight of the dangling tether would have pulled just about any restraint he could think of off the walls.

“Julius Paine, this is the President.” Well that got up the ladder fast. The President continued, “I haven’t verified this with the UN, and you know damn well no case has used that law as a reference in…” he tapered off for a moment. “37 years. Now, you are the most wanted man on the planet, and if you surrender yourself, I will consider not detonating the nuke inside my plane.”

Gwen broke in. “Mr. President, this is Mr. Paine’s assistant. It is no longer your plane, sir. It’s mine. Your Secretary of Defense will be verifying that as we speak.”

Gwen added in a quieter tone I knew meant she was just addressing me, “I didn’t really take over the plane, just the comms and their plasma battery-engines. Those nukes are pretty damn hard-wired.” She sighed while the President resumed.

“Well, Mr. Paine… I want you to hear my words, and really listen. For the crimes that you have committed--”

Julius had had enough. “Whatever you think I’ve done, you have been misinformed.” He felt his anger, risen and bright. “I will be in contact soon to get you up to speed. Your plane is being returned to you as an act of goodwill. Your pilot is unharmed. These things are done at my discretion, and because the Creator was able to defend itself. If you have any thought of repeating these acts before I contact you, consider this. Gwen, put in hole in the left wing of the Montgomery.”

“Copy that.” She sounded positively cheery. “I’ll be dropping your plane off near Puerto Rico. It shouldn’t have too much difficulty landing there… Just uh… make sure someone clears the debris off of runway A4. There was a bit of a storm you know.”

“Paine out.”

****

The extraction craft that Julius was in didn’t have so much as a window, so the only way that he knew the craft was docking was Gwen’s stream of updates.

A few moments after feeling a click of impact, she cleared him to release his straps. It took some time to work his way free of the restraints. He sat up and shimmied himself towards the opening. It was a window of light past which Julius could not see. The edges of the craft sharpened into focus as he approached the exit; he could see layers of metal and composite recessed into the wall. When his attention turned back out the hatch, his breath caught.

It wasn’t the vista of the Earth and Moon that grabbed him, it was the ship. The panels with the expansive view were similar to those one the Creator, clear, slightly opalescent panels that Jules knew were photoelectric generators. The interior of the space was similar: metals walls with gentle floors. But outside of the panels, there was so much ship. It was obvious that he was currently at the center of the vessel.

It opened up above and below to the left and the right of his view. Intricately detailed and non-uniform, the four wings of the craft spread large-- if he had to guess, he would guess that each were the size of the Creator. Given that he could only see a small percentage of the ship, he could say with confidence that the thing was immense.

“This is definitely not an optimal design for a space habitat.” Jules wondered aloud.

Gwen answered the implied question. “That’s because it was built like the original cities, one piece at a time. Plus, they were under contractual obligation to leave us straight line access to this port.” I nodded and she continued. “So are you clear with what I told you about the base?”

He thought back. He was one of the co-founders of the base, along with one of his original partners from the early days on the Valuestream. The angel investor had always been obsessed with his privacy. He had been one of the very few to be aware of Jules’ design-don’t-build weapons program, as he had been one of its original funders. Apparently, the plasma battery-engine that he had created to power the Creator was actually something that he had recreated. Long before the original time he built the battery, he had realized its weapons potential and decided that the designs had to be shelved into his secret program.

He wished he hadn’t been so right.

Two years before his first Sabbatical they had activated the first permanent L3 habitat, and his angel investor had joined the residents of the base within six months. According to Gwen’s best guess there were about 10,000 people living full time in the habitat. She had kept a pretty close eye, so to speak, on the situation with her neighbors. They regularly send sorties to the surface and the ships returned more massive than they departed, which accounted for the haphazard growth of the base

After a major conflict event a few years ago, the base had been making fewer trips to the surface. His funder was the titular president of the habitat, but held powers more dictatorial in nature. His wing of the base was originally half of base’s total volume, but now closer to a tenth. However, on his own parts of the base, the investor and his agents had no executive powers, or really powers of any kind.

The reverse was not true. He had power everywhere on the station.

Although it wasn’t clear what his status would be in actuality. In theory he was a co-president of the colony, in a legal system that bore a lot of similarity to that of the United states. Gwen was, up until now, the only official resident of Julius’ half of the base. She had engaged in regular and bilateral trade with the rest of the station, mostly importing copper, silicon, and other raw materials, while exporting a lot of high quality computer equipment and the occasional armor panel.

She had warned him that his arrival would likely be met with extreme reactions by the residents of the colony.

“Probably not, but priorities. Now that I am on station, what can you tell me that you couldn’t on the way?” A little exasperation made its way into his question.

“Your options on how to respond to the Attacks and your abduction. There has been no major change in status since your extraction. No one has left the island by sea or by air. We have total control over the land area except for the spot where Castelain is holed up.”

He was ready for this, “All right. I am sticking with the orders I gave you. Control and awe. At this point I am seeing no need for punish or redeem.”

“Yes sir.” Gwen responded formally. “Your predictions about my capacity to improve on the plasma engines undershot the mark. You are going to be impressed when you see how many Newtons per liter they’ve got.” Considering the plasma engine on the Creator was only Kiloliter and that had pulled a skyscraper into space, he suspected he would be. “I have a plan ready for your review. This one needs to be shown. There’s a workstation --”

“I see it.” He interrupted.

He looked. He scrolled. He kept looking.

Eventually he murmured, “Control and awe.”

“Control and awe.” She replied.

They hit first, he reminded himself. They hit the whole damn world.

“Operation Antaeus is a go.”