Free Dangerous Evolution by Gregg Vann Page B

main menu, I hit the location command. It
seemed to take forever, but I knew it had only been a couple of minutes. Finally,
my pad spit out the coordinates, displayed on a galaxy map far larger than I
was used to seeing. I’m not a stellar cartographer, but I’ve travelled enough
to know that these were coordinates were unusual.
    “Hmmmm.”
    “What’s wrong?” Stinson asked.
    “Nothing,” I replied, “yet.”
    I sent the coordinates back through the ships navigation controls
and waited, frowning when the results came back the same as before.
    “Now something’s wrong,” I said. “The good news is that the
readout indicates she’s alive and well.”
    Stinson steeled himself for the rest, “And the bad news?”
    “She is on a small planet, a little over a day’s Transit from
here…on the other side of The Verge.”
    “Oh Shit,” he said. “She’s in Sentient space.”
    Stinson swearing? Things must be bad.
    “What’s our plan?” he asked.
    “My plan is to contact Sector Security for consultation. If we are
going to start a war, I would like to get their input first.”
    “I see,” Stinson replied. “And what is your plan?”
    “I would like to go in no matter what, but it would be foolish to
ignore any valid advice.”
    “I thought as much,” he said, unsurprised. “I’m going to go send a
message to my wife and daughter—just in case things turn out to be as dangerous
as I think they are.”
    I nodded solemnly.
    He saw my gesture for what it was, acknowledging the importance of
saying goodbye while you still can. For me, it was even more than that though; it
was just another reminder that I had no one left to say goodbye to.
    I composed a detailed data-surge for Sector Security and the
Regent, with copies sent to the Office of Sentient Affairs on Prima, and
Inter-Sector Cooperative Defense as well. If our next actions might bring every
human Sector into conflict—they should all have a say in our actions.
    The ISCD had never actually cooperated on anything, except for
bi-annual conferences and making empty military pledges. But the founding agreement
stated that if the Sentients attacked any Sector, humanity would fight
together as one. One hell of a pledge after the disaster of the Diaspora War,
but there it was. The enemy of my enemy…
    Most importantly, I sent a message to the other six Special
Inquisitors. In it, I detailed my concerns about what might happen if the
Sentients were gone, and asked them to confirm or dispute my reasoning about it
blossoming into war.
    Less rational Regents, and certainly each Sector’s military
apparatus, would see a Sentient extinction as a great boon; mankind’s biggest
threat eradicated, and open access to all of the resources that had been closed
off to us. But the SI took a longer view of things, and would probably
recognize that the loss of this deterrent would certainly lead to war. At least
I hoped they saw it that way. But what if they didn’t? What would I do then?
    Del walked onto the bridge, and stopped in front of me, standing stiff-backed
and purposeful. The two security officers in tow took up positions behind it.
    “What are you going to do now?” it asked.
    “Now,” I said, “we wait.”
    “For what exactly?” The Sentient had regained its former,
emotionless aspect.
    “For a recommendation from my superiors about whether or not to
enter Sentient space,” I answered.
    “Sentient space?” Its façade faltered for a moment, then snapped
back.
    “Val Evans is being held by Sentients, Del, we shouldn’t be that
surprised considering Woz’s involvement.”
    I leaned forward and steepled my fingers together. “It would be
tremendously helpful if you could guarantee our safety once we get there.”
    “Unfortunately, I cannot. You will be destroyed as soon as you
cross over.”
    “I thought so,” I said, another hope dashed. “You have no
influence then?”
    “My mission was very discreet, Commander—unsanctioned by my