The Human Division by John Scalzi Read Free Book Online Page A

phrase “black box” got its cachet with terrestrial air travel. Ironically, almost none of the “black boxes” of those bygone days were actually black; they were typically brightly colored to be made easy to find. The CDF wanted their black boxes found, but only by the right people. They made them as black as they could.
    “Black box, black hole, black body,” Wilson said to himself.
    Hey.
    Wilson opened his eyes and sat up.
    His BrainPal pinged him; it was Schmidt. Wilson opened the connection. “How’s diplomacy?” he asked.
    “Uh,” Schmidt said.
    “Be right there,” Wilson said.
    *   *   *
    Captain Sophia Coloma looked every inch of what she was, which was the sort of person who was not here to put up with your shit. She stood on her bridge, imposing, eyes fixed at the portal through which Wilson stepped. Neva Balla, her executive officer, stood next to her, looking equally displeased. On the other side of the captain was Schmidt, whose studiously neutral facial expression was a testament to his diplomatic training.
    “Captain,” Wilson said, saluting.
    “You want a shuttle,” Coloma said, ignoring the salute. “You want a shuttle and a pilot and access to our sensor equipment.”
    “Yes, ma’am,” Wilson said.
    “You understand you want these as we are about to skip into what is almost certainly a hostile situation, and directly before sensitive negotiations with an alien race,” Coloma said.
    “I do,” Wilson said.
    “Then you can explain to me why I should prioritize your needs over the needs of every other person on this ship,” Coloma said. “As soon as we skip, I need to scan the area for any hostiles. I need to scan the area comprehensively. I’m not going to let the Clarke ’s sole shuttle out of its bay before I’m absolutely certain it and we are not going to be shot out the sky.”
    “Mr. Schmidt explained to you my current level of clearance, I imagine,” Wilson said.
    “He did,” Coloma said. “I’ve also been informed that Ambassador Abumwe has given your needs a high priority. But this is still my ship.”
    “Ma’am, are you saying that you will go against the orders of your superiors?” Wilson asked, and noticed Coloma thin her lips at this. “I’m not speaking of myself here. The orders come from far above both of us.”
    “I have every intention of following orders,” Coloma said. “I also intend to follow them when it makes sense to do so. Which is after I’ve made sure we’re safe, and the ambassador and her team are squared away.”
    “As far as the scanning goes, what you need to do and what I need to do dovetail,” Wilson said. “Share the data with me and run a couple of scans that I need and I’ll be fine. The scans I need to run will add another layer of security to your own scans.”
    “I’ll run them after I’ve run our standard scans,” Coloma said.
    “That’s fine,” Wilson said. “Now, about the shuttle—”
    “No shuttle, no pilot,” Coloma said. “Not until after I’ve sent Abumwe to the Utche.”
    Wilson shook his head. “I need the shuttle before then,” he said. “The ambassador told me to find and access the black box before she met with the Utche. She wanted to know whether there is a danger to them, not only us.”
    “She doesn’t have authority on this,” Coloma said.
    “But I do, ma’am, and I agree with her,” Wilson said. “We need to know everything we can before the Utche arrive. It’s going to put a damper on negotiations if one of us explodes. Especially if we could have avoided it. Ma’am.”
    Coloma was silent.
    “I’d like to make a suggestion,” Schmidt said, after a minute.
    Coloma looked at Schmidt as if she’d forgotten that he was there. “What is it?” she asked.
    “The reason we need the shuttle is to get the black box,” Schmidt said. “We don’t know if we can find the black box. If we don’t find it, we don’t need it. If we don’t find it within the first hour or so,