Brokering Trust - Gay Edition

"All this for a software upgrade?" David asked incredulously.

"You will be briefed when we arrive."

CHAPTER 5: WEAVER

The craft coasted down towards one of the larger dome-shaped structures, and they headed for another dock, this one protected by a force field that suggested it might be pressurized. They were a lot deeper now. The view from the external cameras faded as they slid inside, David feeling the submarine come to a stop. His coloration still moody, Selkie scuttled past him and opened the door, slithering out onto a boarding platform. As he followed after him, David did a double-take, almost dropping his hard case.

Flanking a door that led out of the dock were a pair of towering creatures. It took him a moment to recognize them beneath the white armor plating that covered them, but they were Krell. Big ones, too. The Krell were one of the member species of the Coalition - alligator-like reptiles covered in bony scutes and thick scales that could easily reach fifteen feet from their noses to their long, oar-like tails. These examples stood nine feet tall, and they looked to be twice that length, their leathery hides taking on a darker hue that was indicative of their age. With their jutting teeth and their massive bipedal frames, they looked like dinosaurs.

They were wearing protective suits that were clearly of Broker design, all matte white plating that looked like molded plastic. It was the same style as all of their machines, with rounded corners and sleek lines, some silver metal visible here and there. They wore no helmets, but they had segmented cables in shining chrome trailing to masks that covered the nostrils on the ends of their crocodilian snouts. The species was amphibious, so maybe it was supplying them with what oxygen they needed.

In their hands were clutched alarmingly large rifles of similar design, with white casings and metallic rails that ran down their long barrels. They were so hefty that even a Borealan might have trouble wielding one.

"Are those Krell?" David hissed. "What the hell are they doing here?"

Lena Webber's strange message came to mind, and he remembered that her claim to fame was the invention of a translator that could interpret the Krell language - albeit somewhat crudely. Like the Brokers, the Krell completely lacked the vocal apparatus necessary to reproduce human speech. More than that, their psyche was so alien that a direct translation of words and concepts was practically impossible. Even their perception of time was nigh incomprehensible to other species. What did Webber and the Krell have to do with the Brokers?

Before they could approach, the door between the two Krell slid open, and a Broker slithered through. David recognized the arrow-shaped fin on his mantle - it was the Administrator. He greeted them with a flush of pastel coloration, one that Selkie returned. Unable to change the color of his skin without holding his breath for a while, David settled for a wave. Standing between the two towering aliens, the diminutive Broker looked even smaller than usual, but he retained an undeniable air of authority.

"Welcome, Doctor O'Shea," he began, a male voice filtering into David's helmet. "You are right on time, and I am sure that you are eager to get started, so let us not delay any further. Please, come this way."

Surmising that he had probably greeted Selkie in their own language without translating it, David bounded over to him, the Administrator maintaining his bright coloration as he watched the human approach. Maybe there was something amusing about his strange underwater gait.

"It's nice to finally see your facility for myself," David began, Selkie trailing behind as he took up position beside the Administrator. They walked deeper into the building, making their way down a sterile corridor. "I have to admit, it's very impressive. It's a much larger operation than I was anticipating."

He noted that the two Krell had joined them, hanging back a little as they followed the group through the corridor. The walls and ceiling were oddly spacious - perhaps designed to allow the aliens to move more easily. Unlike the plodding human, they seemed to be more buoyant, pushing themselves along by kicking off the floor as though they were moving in zero-G. They were clearly very at home underwater.

"I trust that you are settled into your new quarters?" the Admin asked. "I apologize for the unusual living arrangements, but we thought it best that a member of our staff be on hand to supervise you."

To spy on me, David neglected to reply.

"It's understandable," he said instead. "Your city is a very alien environment from my perspective. I'll probably need a lot of help before I really grasp how everything works."

"And I see that you are not afraid to ask for it," the Broker replied, giving him an appreciative glance. "That is good. It bodes well for your work here."

"I can't wait to see what you've been hiding down here, if you'll pardon the expression," David added eagerly. "If you don't mind my asking, why do you have Krell here? One of the few things we know about your people is that you use combat drones, and I saw the automated defense turrets on the way in. Also, the whole never letting aliens anywhere near your planets thing."

"We have a long history of friendship with the Krell," the Admin replied, flashing one of his hands in front of a panel to grant them access to the next room. "Before we had even made first contact with your species, we had formed an alliance with the Krell that had lasted hundreds of years. It was only through the establishment of the Coalition and the close cooperation between our species that we prevailed in our war against the hives."

"I knew that the founding species of the Coalition were the Brokers and the Krell," David added. "We humans were somewhat latecomers, as I understand it. What I meant was, why are they here, in this facility? Aren't you developing drones here?"

"Our people have a saying," the Admin replied. "The loyalty of a Krell cannot be bought. They are loyal and steadfast guardians, and unlike a drone, they cannot be hacked or otherwise compromised. In the event of a network intrusion, a power failure, or a hostile takeover, my Krell will remain unwavering in their duty."

"You're not worried they'll leak information when they get back to the homeworld?" David asked.

"Our NDAs are quite ironclad," the Admin replied. "Speaking of which..."

They arrived in something that looked like a decontamination chamber with a door at the far end, the one behind them closing as the two Krell drifted inside. On the right wall was a transparent window with another Broker sitting behind it, its four arms moving rapidly across a bank of consoles. There was a flash, a shimmering wall of blue light manifesting ahead of them, starting to sweep its way down the length of the room.

"Do not be alarmed," the Admin explained. "This is merely a routine procedure to check for contraband and unauthorized data recording devices."

Remembering the data drive that was hidden inside the lining of his suit, David stiffened, the presence of the two Krell becoming all the more concerning. If Admiral Vos had been wrong, and the Brokers had tech that could detect such a device, how might the Administrator react?

The blue beam swept over him, fizzling out as it reached the back of the chamber. David held his breath, watching the Broker behind the glass for any sign of confusion or alarm. After a few moments, the door ahead slid open, and David allowed himself to exhale.

"Just a formality, I am sure you understand," the Admin said with cheerful pastel colors. "Now, before we proceed any further, there is the matter of your contract to attend to."

"My contract?" David asked, gesturing to himself as he glanced between Selkie and the Admin in confusion. "I wasn't told anything about a contract."

"You are about to enter a very sensitive facility that contains experimental technologies currently in active development by my company," the Admin clarified. "Everything beyond this door is classified, and many of the patents have not even been filed yet. You understand my desire to protect my property from the dangers of industrial espionage, I am sure."

"Very well," David replied, surmising that he wouldn't be allowed inside without signing his name on a dotted line. "It wouldn't be the first NDA that I've agreed to."

"Good, good," the Admin chimed as he clasped his upper hands together. With the lower pair, he gestured to another Broker who was scuttling through the door ahead, a tablet computer clutched in its hand - its suckers stuck to the flat casing. Whether the alien was male or female, David couldn't say. They didn't have much in the way of secondary sexual characteristics, and he'd had to go by voice so far. "Please take some time to look over the contract. We have translated it into English for you."

"I'm surprised to see so many Brokers in one place," David mused as the employee handed the tablet to him gingerly, then retreated to a safe distance. "I was starting to think the city was empty."

"Working in close proximity is an unfortunate necessity of a secure facility like this one," the Admin replied, seeming almost apologetic. "We cannot allow our employees to work remotely or to take sensitive data onto their property, as the risk of a leak is simply too great. Do not fret - they are compensated appropriately for the toll this kind of work takes on them, and we do have dedicated break rooms where they can decompress between shifts."

"Well, that's...reassuring," David replied, not sure how else to respond. It seemed that the Admin had interpreted his innocuous observation as genuine concern for the operation's working conditions. Brokers must really hate being forced into a shared space like this.

How could a civilization even develop under these conditions? Some level of sociability and cooperation would be required, and it was hard to imagine the Brokers reproducing sexually with such an aversion to being within arm's reach of each other. Maybe they didn't. Perhaps they shipped their eggs to a different postcode to be fertilized. That would give the term long-distance relationship a whole new meaning...

He glanced down at the tablet, finding that a finger worked just as well as a sucker for scrolling through the text, growing more skeptical as he went.

"Excuse me, but there are dozens of pages here," he said as he glanced up at the Admin. "I feel like I'd need a lawyer to proof this for me."

"Lawyer?" the Admin asked, pausing to make a query. After a moment, his translator responded in the Broker language. "A legal expert?" he continued, a confused ripple of dark coloration spreading across his mantle like a shadow. "You do not possess the necessary legal knowledge to proceed? We went to some lengths to ensure that all of the terminology would be familiar to you."

"A whole society of lawyers," he muttered, shaking his head. "Don't worry - that concept alone is incentive enough for me to behave. I'm guessing this is just an elaborate NDA swearing me to secrecy until my dying breath, but give me a moment."

He took some minutes to read through the document, finding that it was indeed an NDA, but one that had been taken to an almost comical extreme. The Brokers had seemingly thought of every conceivable scenario where he might have divulged information about the project or the facility itself, and had prohibited each one in no uncertain terms. There was even a non-compete agreement that prevented him from working with other Broker corporations who might be developing similar technology in the future, which was admittedly a pretty unlikely possibility. They were thorough and meticulous, which led him to believe that this kind of thing might be routine in their society.

Still not completely sure if he was signing away his soul, he scrawled his name in the appropriate box, then handed the tablet to the Admin. The alien checked it briefly, then his coloration lightened again, perhaps an indication that he was satisfied.

"Very good. This way, Doctor O'Shea."

He led their group through the door, the two Krell remaining behind, further bringing into question what might have happened had any step of that process gone awry. They made their way through yet more bland corridors, making David wish for a fish tank or even one of their colorful signs to break up the monotony.

"I am sure you have been wondering what exactly it is that we do here," the Admin began. "Now that you are under contract, there is no longer any need for secrecy. This facility is a testing ground for experimental weapons. We develop technology both for export to other companies, and for our own private use, with a focus on combat drones and other automated systems."

"I figured as much," David replied as they turned a corner. "You work for the military, then?"

"We Brokers do things a little differently," the Admin explained with a smile that exposed his black beak. "Based on what I have learned about the UNN, the various military forces of your nations and colonies are unified under a central command structure. Soldiers are paid wages by their governments, making them civil servants, in a sense. We have no unified military. The closest analog that you would understand is a private military company, or PMC. Our drone fleets and hazard teams are privately employed, and they fight for profit."

"Your entire military is made up of PMCs?" David asked incredulously. "What happens when there's a war?"

"Just like in any profession, the best rise to the top and command the highest price. Which company fights where and when is a balancing act between their fees and their expertise. In times of great need, the Board may use their funds to hire several companies to defend the collective Broker holdings."

"I'm guessing that you own one of these PMCs?" David asked.

"My company is one of the most reputable and accomplished," he replied as they stepped through another door. "Our drones are second to none."

They entered a room that was more lavishly furnished than the rest, with a large window that took up the entire right wall and a fish tank that occupied the left. Shoals of colorful tropical fish caught the light as they flitted back and forth, the water creating a dappled effect on the otherwise featureless deck. There were a couple of the hammock chairs behind a low glass table that was held up by the same strange, branch-like style of support structure he had seen elsewhere in the city.

The Admin guided him over to the window, Selkie following behind, and he looked out over the factory floor of a vast manufacturing plant. It was hard to make visual sense of at a glance, appearing as little more than a tangle of white polymer and silver metal - cables, pipes, and support frames trailing back and forth. As he took it all in, he picked out long, snaking conveyors that wound their way through the jungle of unidentifiable machinery and electronics. Surrounding them were skeletal frames that served as anchor points for long robotic arms that were working an assembly line. Some had a familiar, mechanical appearance, while others were more like the segmented hoses of the exoskeletons. They moved incessantly with incredible poise and fluidity, attaching curving, white panels and silver components to partially-completed machines that were moving down the line.

"This is just one of our manufacturing plants," the Admin explained with a wave of his tentacle. "It is where our latest model of combat drone is assembled. These are export models destined to be sold to some of our competitors, but we also produce our own in-house variants that use proprietary technology and have enhanced capabilities."

"I don't know who you're expecting to fight other than the Bugs," David replied. "Wouldn't you want to give other companies the best possible chance to win? I don't really understand the logic of selling worse versions of weapons to people who might end up fighting in defense of the planet you live on..."

"You are still thinking in human terms," the Admin explained, seeming to find the notion quaint. "The export models are perfectly serviceable, and we stand behind their combat performance, but healthy competition is necessary for innovation. If the Board wants the best drones on the market, then they know where to come."

"The plant isn't underwater," David mused, noticing a shower of sparks spew from one of the arms as it welded an armored plate onto a tubular frame. "I figured you wouldn't be doing metallurgy and chemistry underwater, but I expected factories like this to be on the islands."

"Many are," the Admin replied. "We also have large deep-sea platforms with sections that sit above the water to take advantage of the planet's atmosphere for various manufacturing and scientific purposes. In this facility, we use an artificial atmosphere comprised of a mixture of inert gasses including argon and other trace elements."

"Interesting," David said. "I suppose that if you're pumping out all of the water anyway, you might as well go all the way and create the most favorable environment possible."

It didn't seem to bother the Brokers - he could see one of the exoskeletons that Selkie had used plodding down an aisle between the machines, presumably monitoring their progress. They seemed to hop in and out of the robotic suits just as easily as humans changed their clothes. They probably didn't want to be anywhere near the machinery with all of those vulnerable tentacles anyway.

"Your host is in charge of the research project that was supposed to equip our drones with a new proprietary control system," the Admin explained, David glancing at Selkie briefly before following behind him. The alien led them out of the observation lounge, continuing to talk as he scuttled along with that strange, tentacled gait. "As you have no doubt learned during your species' own forays into the technology, controlling drones over any significant distance incurs a large degree of latency. Even with repeaters and control ships transmitting data at light-speed, coordinating across distances of light-seconds or minutes means that direct control becomes practically impossible. We simply lack the numbers to pilot swarms of drones on an individual basis, and as more drones are added to the network, the commands given by the operator become more like suggestions. The only solution is to make them fully autonomous."

"That shouldn't pose too large of a problem, though," David added as they arrived at a transport tube terminal. "Especially for someone with such advanced capabilities as the Brokers. I'm assuming that the processing power of your computers is magnitudes larger than our own, and we would be quite capable of training a neural network to perform simple tasks like patrolling a solar system or handling a fire control system. If such a thing were legal, of course."

"Yes, I have read that humans have very restrictive laws concerning the deployment of automated weapons," the Admin replied as he stepped into the open tube. "It is not a concern that we share."

The three of them lined up inside the pipe and were soon whisked away by a gentle current, sending them out of the dome-shaped building and across the barren sea floor, David glancing out at the sprawling complex beyond the glass. It looked even larger and more impressive from ground level.

"What's the issue, then?" David asked as he spread his arms to help stabilize himself in the water.

"As you posited, the major threat that we face is that of the hive fleets," the Admin continued. "As much as they might appear as biological machines to the uninitiated, the average Betelgeusian Drone is intelligent and adaptable - far moreso than even our most advanced control systems. Against any other enemy, the sheer quantity of combat drones would be overwhelming, but it would not be an exaggeration to say that the hives have perfected the very same concept. They can produce wholly sentient soldiers just as efficiently as we can mass-produce drones, and despite being just as expendable, their troops are far more intelligent and far more able to react to changing battlefield conditions. Even engaging the enemy on the ground in close quarters, a hazard team with a complement of drones just cannot react or give commands quickly enough to keep up."