Free Wormhole by Richard Phillips Page B

relaxing in the afternoon sun.
    “Mark’s awake.”
    As Jen started to rise, Heather held out a hand. “In the shower.”
    A wave of relief softened the worry lines around Jennifer’s eyes. “Does he remember anything?”
    Heather shrugged, settling into a wicker chair beside her friend. “Don’t know yet. Thought I’d let him wake up and get dressed first. Yachay’s fixing him something to eat.”
    Heather paused. “Where’re Jack and Janet?”
    “Janet took Robby for a walk. Jack went into San Javier to get some supplies.”
    “Good. That’ll give us a chance to talk with Mark privately.”
    “Jack wants to debrief us.”
    “I figured.”
    Just then a rising dust cloud in the distance caught Heather’s attention, presaging the arrival of Jack’s Ford Explorer. Heather shaded her eyes with one hand, gazing down the dirt road. “Sometimes that man’s just plain spooky.”
    Jen followed Heather’s gaze. “So much for our private chat.”
    By the time Mark finished eating, Janet had made her way back to the house and put Robby down for a nap, and she sat waiting with Jack in the living room. Heather wasn’t quite sure, butfrom their faces as she led Mark and Jen into the room, it seemed that Jack and Janet had been arguing.
    “Are we interrupting something?” Heather asked.
    Jack’s head turned toward her. “Have a seat. Something’s happened.”
    As Mark, Jen, and Heather complied, he continued. “President Jackson has granted Dr. Stephenson a full pardon and restored him to his position as deputy director of LANL.”
    “What?” The startled question simultaneously erupted from all three of them.
    “Not only that,” Jack said, “Stephenson’s also been selected to represent the United States as a special advisor to CERN. The Associated Press reported that he left for Europe almost immediately upon being released from prison.”
    Heather felt as though she’d been kicked in the stomach. As a swarm of visions threatened to pull her away from the conversation, she fought to regain her focus.
    Mark rose to his feet. “But that doesn’t make any sense. Jackson can’t be that stupid.”
    “The president claimed to have proof that I framed Stephenson. He also ordered that nanite serum production and distribution be restarted.”
    “Something else is going on,” Heather said.
    “And why CERN?” asked Jennifer. “Stephenson would want to get back to Rho Project research.”
    “We need to get on the Internet and figure out what’s really happening.”
    “And you will,” said Jack. “But first, Janet and I want a complete rundown of everything you encountered during your link to the Bandolier Ship.”
    Although Mark, Jen, and Heather argued the point, Jack refused to be swayed. Thus, with Mark taking the lead, they passed the afternoon taking turns describing their experiences.
    As Mark’s story unfolded, the pieces clicked into place in Heather’s mind. She’d been analyzing the possibility that the alien artificial intelligence was an integral part of the starship’s computational system. In response to Mark’s counterattack, it had sought to shed computational resources in an attempt to hide itself. That meant the AI existed within the starship’s computers, not tightly coupled to those systems. It no doubt required an advanced parallel processing system to operate, but that was likely the extent of its bond to the ship. Somehow the AI had managed to isolate itself, severing the link to the systems linked to Mark’s mind. One second the thing was there, trying to counter Mark’s attack on its logic systems, and the next it was gone.
    The real question was whether or not the thing would be able to restore its access to the starship’s central computing systems. Since it had transited to a subsystem and then cut the link, it could probably reconnect.
    Mark’s mental battle had kept the AI occupied, enabling Heather and Jennifer deep access into the computer data banks. The alien