Chapter 1: Sunday

"OK, what's the crisis?" The bleary-eyed Tribune glared from the monitor in front of Major James MacAllistor as the clock announced to him that it had just turned Monday, one in the morning, Eastern Standard Time. Tribune William Whitefeather was only too aware of the late hour, even as his equally sleep-deprived concubine Della handed him a cup of liquid that was vaguely coffee-flavoured. Oh, well, at least it had caffeine in it. "Have the Swarm arrived early? Has some colony decided they absolutely need a telephone sterilizer or management consultant?"

"Don't know myself. I just got the alert too, from some scoring facility in New England. All I know is that it's the closest I've ever seen to an AI having an orgasm before." The Major grew amused. "If it's to pick up an incredibly bad poet from Essex, I'd run like hell."1

"Bring your towel if you do." Tribune Whitefeather called up the red-flagged file.

To explain the crisis properly, we need to start by going back in time, about 12 hours or so, and down onto the blue marble rotating below the K'Treel class explorer ship John Cabot, flagship for the Office of Targeted Extractions of the Department of Evacuation and Colonial Operations and not incidentally, Tribune Whitefeather's temporary home.

"I don't know how I let you talk me into this," Marcie Haywood whispered as they entered the CAP scoring centre.

"Hey, look, the school says all students are supposed to have a CAP card, and you don't have one," Linda Waters whispered back. "And besides, aren't you even the teeniest bit curious about your score?"

"No."

"It never hurts to ask, and besides, we've got all afternoon."

Within the hour, the AI at the CAP scoring centre was issuing alerts to every other AI within reach, on Earth and in orbit, requesting additional processing resources.

It was now just after two in the morning, Eastern Standard Time. Director of Evacuation and Colonial Operations Miles Chandler was on Greenwich Mean Time, which meant for him it was Seven AM. Nevertheless the Director's circadian rhythm still informed him that it was far too early in the morning for cogent thought.

The Tribune was uncomfortably aware that there were others listening in on the link, not just those he nominally reported to, but directors of other arms of Central Command. This was becoming big.

"As we said, the AI got curious."

Director Chandler winced. "I hate when the AI get curious. It usually means carefully considered long-range plans are about to get rewritten very quickly."

Not that Director Chandler was exactly famous for getting terribly involved in the details of any planning, long-range or otherwise, reflected Tribune Whitefeather. He continued with his presentation. "The individual in question is a Miss Marcie Haywood." The AI posted the picture of Miss Marcie Haywood up for all to ponder.

"OK, so the AI at that CAP scoring centre is a paedophile," joked Director Chandler. "What made it so curious about this girl?"

"The school she is attending," came the smooth response from Tribune Whitefeather.

"Podunk City Junior High?"

"The Massachusetts Institute of Technology."

"Freshman?" the startled Director queried.

"Sophomore," Tribune Whitefeather assured him.

"Great Zombie Jesus." Director Chandler blinked in disbelief. "At her age? What's her major, Home Economics?"

The AI chimed in. "Miss Marcie Haywood is majoring in Physics, with minors in Space Structural Engineering and Computer Sciences. She currently holds a 4.0 grade average."

"And she's HOW old, again?"

At that same time, Marcie and Linda were tiptoeing into Marcie's family home. It was now so far beyond Marcie's curfew that both knew they were likely in much trouble. But they really couldn't help it: the AI at the CAP scoring centre had kept Marcie until the hour before.

The light in the living room was on. That was understandable, as Marcie's parents would have gone to bed fully aware their eldest daughter had not yet come home. Marcie gulped.

"I'm sorry," Linda apologized. "It's my fault you're so late."

"Is it?" asked a masculine voice from the shadows. Both girls jumped.