The Miranda Conspiracy

Book : The Billion Worlds

by James L. Cambias

Genres: Sci-fi Action & Adventure; Hard Science Fiction; Space Opera

Synopsis

An ancient treasure in deep space holds the key to a deadly conspiracy which will shake the Billion Worlds of the Tenth Millennium.

At the end of the Tenth Millennium Zee and his AI buddy Daslakh arrive on the icy moon Miranda, hoping to make a good impression on his girlfriend Adya's upper-class parents. Instead they discover that Adya's father is the target of a political conspiracy. While Adya tries to discover who is trying to to ruin the family fortunes and expel them from Miranda's exclusive ruling class, Daslakh and Zee go on the trail of a lost treasure in deep space. As they both dig deeper they run afoul of rival political factions, romantic complications, space mercenaries, octopus gangsters, and ruthless secret agents—and all the while dealing with interference from Adya's parents and party-going sister. Love, power, wealth, and honor collide in the floating cities and palaces inside Miranda.

Release date: February 4, 2025

Publisher: Baen

Print pages: 320

Sample

CHAPTER ONE

The spaceship with the killer-whale paint job came in fast over Uranus’s north pole, diving into the pale blue planet’s troposphere with her wings back in a narrow delta.

Pelagia’s first circuit of the planet took only twenty minutes, and she left a bright magenta trail of ionized hydrogen behind her as she shed the immense velocity she’d picked up from the solar wind on the long trip out from Mars. When she came back around to the north pole again she’d dropped half that speed, and dipped lower so that her wings could get a better grip on the atmosphere and begin the long left turn to get her lined up on Uranus’s equator.

The inconvenient fact that Uranus and its major moons are tipped ninety degrees from the plane of the Solar System made the screaming curve just above the methane clouds necessary—but Pelagia loved nothing more than traveling at insane speeds through the atmosphere of a giant planet anyway. With her senses straining at maximum resolution forward, she made microscopic course adjustments to miss giant balloon cities, aircraft, and the line of elevator cables stretching down from the orbital ring. When she saw nothing ahead to avoid, she threw in a few rolls, just for thrills.

In what was laughingly called the “control room,” her two biological passengers were enveloped in big blobs of gel, cushioning them against the three-gee deceleration and those “microscopic” adjustments, which felt like violent jolts from side to side. The third passenger, a little spider mech, stood braced on the forward-facing wall, which was currently acting as a floor. Since the entire interior of the room displayed the fantastic cloudscape racing past outside the hull, it looked as if it was flying all by itself.

“You could have done this with gravity, you know,” said the mech, who was named Daslakh. “Five moon encounters would have done the trick. I showed you the right trajectory. You wouldn’t have to risk melting your outer hull, or running into some dimwit in a wing suit.”

“I don’t have the patience to spend two weeks looping around Uranus’s moon system. These wings were made to fly.”

“Will we have enough time to tidy up after you finish maneuvering?” asked Adya, the female human passenger. Within the gel cushion her skin kept shifting between orange and violet. She spoke via comm implant, as her lungs were full of oxygenated goo.

“Plenty,” said Pelagia. “Transit to Miranda should take about four hours once I’m on the path. Free movement on board. You can clean off and print out whatever you feel like wearing.”

“I guess we should have talked about this sooner,” said Zee, the male human in the other gel couch. “How should I dress? You said your parents care a lot about that kind of thing.”

“Yes, I suppose I can’t duck the question any longer.” Adya tried to sigh, but could only manage a burbling sound. “You see . . . my parents are rich. The oligarch class—we call ourselves the Sixty Families—essentially owns the entire economy of Miranda, plus a lot of enterprises throughout Uranus space. Things like the black hole factory in the Ring. So when I say rich I mean very, very rich. With wealth so wide, pricey purchases lose their luster. Conspicuous consumption connotates a crisis of confidence.”

Daslakh never wore clothes, although it did change bodies from time to time. “So just print out a set of tights for him and call it done,” it said aloud. “No problem.”

“Yes, except a problem still persists. If you simulate high status, they’ll suspect you of subterfuge—a sinister seducer stealing my savings. But if you dress downscale, they’ll decide you’re just some disposable diversion.”

“Isn’t that the truth?” asked Zee, smiling at her through the gel.

“You saved my life twice!”

“Three times,” Daslakh pointed out. “Plus some assists.”

“I can’t just write that across my chest,” said Zee. “It would look like I was bragging. How about this? I’ll wear the stuff I usually wear. If your parents like me, they won’t care, and if they don’t like me, it won’t matter.”

“But I avidly aspire

for them to accept and admire you.”

Daslakh gave up on human emotional dilemmas and linked its sensorium directly to Pelagia’s external cameras, watching the sky for any obstacles the orca brain driving the ship might have missed.

Pelagia finished her turn a few minutes later, and let her velocity carry her up out of Uranus’s atmosphere toward the moon Miranda. Along the way she passed Uranus’s Synchronous Ring, a megastructure which completely encircled the planet sixty thousand kilometers above the cloud tops. Half a dozen little moons were embedded in the Ring, and another half dozen had been completely dismantled in order to build it. No reckless maneuvering for Pelagia around the Ring—she obediently followed traffic-control instructions and kept a safe distance from spacecraft and dumb payloads coming and going from the Ring’s docks and launchers.

Two hours later Pelagia reached the top of her orbital path, and suddenly she wasn’t rising up from Uranus anymore, she was falling toward Miranda. A couple of gentle burns from her main drive put her on course to the spaceport at Gonzalo Crater. As she dropped toward the surface, both moon and ship passed into Uranus’s shadow. The mottled, pale gray landscape below suddenly blazed with lights, showing the sprawl of refineries, transport lines, landing fields, and other facilities. Off on the southern horizon, exactly on Miranda’s south pole, a line of red warning lights marked the giant phased-array launching laser complex, which could throw payloads anywhere in the Solar System—or vaporize any hostile force approaching Miranda.

During the orbital transit Daslakh helped Adya do some fast research on the semiotics of clothing, then watched with amusement as she put Zee through several costume changes in search of the right look. She tried him in nulesgrima stick-fighting competition tights, as Zee was the champion back in his home habitat, but shook her head when she saw it. “No, it’s too on the nose.” A set of space-crew coveralls emblazoned with Pelagia’s leaping orca logo made her cock her head thoughtfully, but then she rejected the outfit. “It looks like a costume. The sort of thing a child would wear on her first shuttle ride.”

“You wore a suit just like it the whole time we were on Mars,” Daslakh pointed out triumphantly.

Adya turned a little violet. “Context. My parents weren’t there,” she muttered.

“Should I be insulted?” asked Pelagia.

“I think you should be,” said Daslakh. “Threaten to bite her or something.”

“Try the one that’s printing now,” said Adya. Zee sighed and peeled off the coveralls.

“Maybe I should just go nude,” he said.

“That flavor of

foolishness is like what my sister’s frivolous friends do. I want Mother and Daddy to like you, Zee.”

The newest outfit was a high-collared vest with a belt, over neutral tights. The collar was the only thing that wasn’t part of Zee’s normal attire. “It’s a bit bland, but I guess that is best,” she said.

“The fashion show will have to wait while I do the landing burn. Please get in your seats,” said Pelagia. A pair of couches formed out of the floor, facing forward this time. Once the two humans were secured, Pelagia counted down from twenty and then started her main engine for the final burn.

Miranda’s trivial gravity—less than a hundredth of a gee—meant that Pelagia could halt her descent well above the landing pad, then drop the remaining fifty meters to touch down safely on her aft landing legs.

“We’re down, but stay in your seats.” A moment later Pelagia tipped herself over, dropping with a soft thud onto her belly wheels. “There! Now you can do what you like. Adya, I asked to use Elso family hangar space but the port says there isn’t any such thing.”

“What? That cannot be correct. We have half a dozen hangars here.”

“Not according to ground traffic control. They’re sending me to the general traffic bay for now.”

“There must be some mistake.”

“Maybe your folks are trying to send you a message,” said Daslakh. It wasn’t sure of all the details but it did know that Adya’s family had disapproved of her going off on a quixotic journey to Jupiter and Mars in search of a legendary superweapon. Now she had turned up empty-handed—except for Zee. In Daslakh’s experience that sort of thing was more than enough to make for a rip-roaring family fight.

Pelagia rolled off the landing area toward the docking bays dug into the rim of Gonzalo Crater. The external door of one bay slid down into the ground, and Pelagia gently pushed her way through the pressure membrane into the habitable space within. Suitless biologicals bounded about, and through Pelagia’s hull her passengers could hear muffled sounds of heavy cargo movers, safety alarms, amplified voices, and power tools.

Adya and Zee gathered up their few permanent possessions and headed for the hatch. “Well, goodbye,” said Pelagia before opening the outer door.

Adya hesitated. “You’re not going to stay?”

“You hired me for one trip a long time ago, and your project was important enough to stick with it until you were done. This run out to Uranus was my gift to the two of you, but now I need something to do. I have to keep my teeth sharp.”

“Miranda’s rulers often employ mercenaries for operations beyond our moon. Could you find work here?”

“I already checked. They’re not hiring right now.”

Adya’s skin had gone dark blue. “I will miss you,” she said, and cleared her throat. “Sharp-toothed and sharp-tongued, powerful Pelagia protected her passengers. Soaring swiftly, Saturn to Summanus, Miranda to Mars, fearless and free. Great gratitude I give you, speaking sadly at our separation. Fight fiercely in the future, finest friend.” 

“I’ll miss you both,” said Pelagia. “Not you, Daslakh.”

“Good riddance to you, too,” it replied.

“Zee: take good care of her or I’ll come looking for you.”

“Where are you going from here?” asked Zee.

“Could be anywhere. My first stop’s going to be at Uranus L1. Taishi hab’s a good place to find mercenary work. If there’s nothing available there, I’ll see what’s in the Ecliptics.”

“Some of those habs are supposed to be dangerous places,” said Adya.

“Exactly,” said Pelagia.

After an awkward silence, Adya picked up her bag and led the way off the ship. In Miranda’s gravity she moved with slow graceful steps. Zee’s first attempt to copy her sent him vaulting meters in the air, and after that he kept the soles of his stockings set to sticky and proceeded cautiously. Daslakh brought up the rear, scuttling on sticky feet with its outer shell bright safety orange for maximum visibility.

“I sent a message ahead from orbit,” said Adya. “I’m somewhat surprised no one showed up to see us arrive. Maybe they are waiting at the private hangar.” Her face got the faraway look of a human communicating via implant, then she frowned and turned a little pink.

“Something wrong?”

“My mother said to just come to the house.”

“I guess we don’t rate a welcoming committee,” said Daslakh. “Maybe Zee’s wearing the wrong clothes.”

Adya momentarily turned a little more crimson before making herself pale green by sheer willpower. She led them through a double pressure membrane and down a ramp to the main concourse running under the crater rim.

The broad passage was lined with shops, restaurants, dance parlors, and various other establishments, but the three newcomers were a little startled to see how many storefronts were covered by cheerful static murals showing scenes of Miranda’s surface or the floating cities on the Shining Sea.

Daslakh’s overlay filters were off, so that it could get a sense of what this new world was like, and it was surprised at how sparse the ads were. About a quarter of them were public service announcements offering life support subsidies and retraining courses for biologicals. That was never a good sign.

A few humans were visible. Like Adya, most Mirandan humans went in for color-changing skin and close-cropped heads. Their clothing ranged from elaborate bodysuits to nothing at all, though the default seemed to be the same kind of tights and vest that Zee was wearing—although the Mirandans decorated their vests with patterns of metal thread.

They boarded a bubble and Adya told it where to go. “I’m keeping the skin transparent—the view is worth it,” she said.

The bottom half of the bubble was a ring of seats, which pivoted around the sphere’s center as it moved, in order to compensate for acceleration. The humans sat together while Daslakh roamed around

 the entire interior surface of the bubble. The tunnel walls outside seemed to shift around wildly but the three of them felt no motion at all.

They shot along a tunnel, then curved down into a vertical shaft, and in just seconds the bubble dropped out of the kilometer-thick shell of ice under Miranda’s surface into a vast cavern.

“Slow down to sixty, please,” said Adya, and the bubble obediently dropped its speed by a factor of ten so that they could enjoy the view. The tube led a kilometer down from the solid sky to a city floating on water which glowed blue-green from thousands of lights under the surface.

“The Shining Sea,” said Adya proudly. “It’s a complete ecosystem, self-sustaining for six thousand years. The fusion plants in the water keep everything warm, and support an entire ecology of algae and plants. Those support plankton and krill, and so on up the pyramid to crustaceans and fish. The sea supports sixty million people—mostly humans and dolphins—and we export edibles all through the Uranus system.”

“I still don’t understand the biological fetish for eating quote real food unquote instead of printed protein,” said Daslakh. “There’s no way you can tell actual fish tissue from a molecular print, except by the absence of pathogens, toxins, waste products, parasites, and decay.”

“Oh, I know it’s irrational. Status display, the natural fallacy, a desire for authenticity. But people like it. Especially dolphins. They can barely tolerate food that isn’t trying to escape.”

The bubble dropped right through the center of the city, faster than Adya could point out any features. Daslakh got a blurred impression of glass spires, vine-covered walls, multiple street levels, and windows under water as they plunged into the sea.

“Full speed again, please,” said Adya. “There’s not as much to see down in the sea.” The bubble accelerated and took a tube along the sea bottom. Adya was right about the view—nothing but a blur of dark water, silt, and distant lights of sea farms. They traveled another couple of minutes before slowing and switching into a vertical tube up to the surface of the sea.

At the top the bubble passed through a membrane and came to a stop in the center of a square forecourt carpeted with flowers. It retracted its canopy so that the passengers could disembark, then sank out of sight again into the tube. Daslakh looked around at the courtyard. One side was open to the sea, and half a dozen boats of various sizes were tied up at the waterline. On the other three sides, broad galleries hung with ubas and heirloom grape vines rose three stories, with more gardens visible on the roof. All the support pillars were sculptures of humans or mythological creatures.

“This is the ancient home of my ancestors,” said Adya. “The showpiece and stronghold of the Elsos for six centuries.”

“It’s very nice,” said Zee, turning completely around.

“Is everybody still asleep?” asked Daslakh.

“I shouldn’t think so,” said Adya, sounding a little puzzled herself. “It’s just past lunchtime. I wonder where everyone is?”

Just then a mech emerged from the front door. It was approximately human

shaped, with two arms, two legs, and a head on top, but its body was a shiny metal ovoid, its head a perfect sphere, and its limbs were spindly tubes with big round joints. It stopped a couple of meters from them. “Good afternoon, Adya. Your parents are waiting for you in the dining room.”

“Vasi! I’m glad to see you again.” Adya’s skin had gone utterly chaotic, a mix of just about every color, shifting like static.

“My solitary journey back from Saturn was uneventful,” said Vasi. “Thank you for asking.”

Adya’s skin settled on a deep maroon, and stayed that way as they followed Vasi through the foyer, part way around a circular courtyard with a water sculpture in the middle, and then through a pair of big wooden doors into an immense room with a long table down the middle.

The walls and ceiling of the dining room were painted with scenes of Miranda’s history. One wall showed a band of warriors tearing down the emblem of the ancient Theocracy, and the heroic central figure was presumably an Elso ancestor. Another showed what must have been a dramatic moment in a domed council chamber, centered on a woman pointing an accusing finger at a cringing villainous-looking cyborg. The ceiling showed the same founder as in the battle scene, now gazing benignly down at the head of the table, with gleaming factories, bountiful sea farms, and fleets of spacecraft around him.

Zee didn’t even try not to gape at the paintings, but Adya ignored them and made herself an icy pale blue.

Two humans sat in high-backed chairs at the far end of the long table. The woman looked exactly like Adya, right down to the cold blue coloring. The man was stockier, with a short gray beard and elaborate eyebrows, and kept himself a calm green. Both wore casual sarongs.

“I hope we do not intrude,” said Adya.

“Decent of you to drop in,” said the woman. “We had rather lost track of you for a time. Will you stay for tea?”

“You needn’t take any trouble.”

The overtones in their voices were amazing. Daslakh hadn’t heard this much hostility since the time it had accidentally dropped into the middle of a civil war in the Jovian Synchronous Ring.

The man’s green skin had taken on a troubled hint of purplish-brown. “Welcome, winsome wanderer. Time for tea and talk, and tales of travels. Adya, please present your party.”

Daslakh could hear Adya’s heart rate slow a little and her skin turned a calmer green as she turned from her mother to her father. “Peerless Papa, I present Zee Sadaran Human SeRaba, and Daslakh Spider Mech SeRaba. Daslakh, Zee, this is my father, Achan Palayat Elso of Elso-Miranda, Minister of Preservation, Third Magistrate of Miranda, and Commodore of the Seventh Shinkai Force; and my mother Mutalali Keatikuna Elso.”

Having been properly tutored by Adya, Zee held up his hands at chest height, palms forward, the old but still proper gesture for those outside Miranda's

formal hierarchy. “It’s a profound pleasure to be presented to Adya’s pleasant parents,” he said, as she had coached him. Daslakh did likewise, and could see that the pupils of Adya’s father’s eyes dilated a little.

A small flying bot brought tea for the biologicals. Adya’s mother actually poured it from the pot into cups herself, making sure it didn’t splash in the low gravity. A second bot put a plate of fruit chips and little pastries filled with savory green goop on the table. Adya’s father said nothing but handed it around and smiled to himself as Zee politely took a pastry and two chips.

“Now, then,” he said. “My heart is happy to have you home, Adya. I trust you will take on your tasks in little time. And Zee—will you linger long in Miranda’s lovely landscape?”

“As long as Adya’s here, I guess,” said Zee. “I’ve never been to Miranda before.”

“Where will you be staying?” asked Adya’s mother. “I hear there are some comfortable hotels in Mediolan.”

“I already invited Zee to stay here,” said Adya before he could answer. “I wanted to show him proper hospitality, as befits one of the Sixty Families.” When nobody said anything she turned a little redder and added, “Did I err? If I’m no longer considered part of the household, naturally I have no business inviting anyone. I’ll get us a room at the Seaview.”

“No need,” said Adya’s father quickly. “This home is honorably hospitable. He can hang his hat here happily.”

“He can have the Iris Room. It has a lovely view,” said Adya’s mother.

Adya smiled, but she stayed reddish-brown.

“That’s very kind of you,” said Zee. “Thank you.”

“Do the oyster puffs please your palate? I shucked them from their shells myself this morning,” said Adya’s father, watching him intently.

“They’re very good,” said Zee. “I’ve had carcols before, but never oysters. Not live-caught, anyway.”

The older man seemed genuinely pleased. “Happy to hear it. I hope you are hungry for what I have planned for dinner.”

“Will Kavita and Sundari be here?” asked Adya.

“Sundari had a prior engagement,” said her mother. “She did ask me to tell you she’ll be at home tomorrow if you want to go see her.”

“And as to Kavita—who can guess where she will go? She may be in the palace of her parents, she may be playing at some party, she may be posturing passionately at a political protest, or off on some peculiar peregrination. Always aimed at attracting attention,” said her father, taking on a slightly purple tinge to show disapproval.

“My sister is a celebrity here in Miranda. She’s got thousands of fans.”

“Millions of morons,” said her father, still disapproving.

Adya turned a little uncertainly to Zee. “Her followers watch everything she does in real time. It does make family gatherings kind of awkward. I hope you don’t mind.”

“No, it’s fine.” 

During the conversation Daslakh had taken up a spot on the table itself, a meter beyond the tea service and snacks. Adya’s father turned toward it. “And you, sir—Daslakh. Describe your days with my daughter.”

“I’m traveling with Zee. He’s traveling with your daughter. As to why I hang around with either of them, it’s a matter of safety. They’d be lost without me.”

“You have no business arrangements with either of them?” asked Adya’s mother.

“Not really, no. Like Zee here, if I need gigajoule equivalents I can get a job. I’m good at a lot of things.”

“It’s also very modest,” said Adya. “Daslakh and Zee helped me in my research. We found the hiding place for the ancient artifact I was looking for, but it wasn’t there anymore. I’ve got enough information to prepare a paper, and I was thinking of crediting them as co-authors and collaborators.”

“Some very strange stories got back here while you strayed,” said Adya’s father. “Claims of conflict with criminals at Summanus, and mutterings of mysteries on Mars.”

“Those were merely misunderstandings,” said Adya, getting orange again. “Some people were trying to, ah, pilfer my research. But Zee prevented that.”

“Dare I demand why?” Her father looked intently at Zee.

“Why what?”

“Why you wished to help Adya?”

“Oh! Well, I guess she looked like she needed some help, and so I just decided to, uh, help her.”

“You had no mercenary motives?”

“Well, they were bad people. Somebody had to stop them. I mean, when I first met Adya these two goons were—”

“Never mind about that,” said Adya, and smiled at her father. “You don’t want to sit through someone else’s stories. The point is that Zee proffered his help because he’s a good person.”

“He certainly convinced you of that. I cannot concur.”

“Tell us about your family, and your home hab—Raba, was it?” asked Adya’s mother.

“My family? Not much to tell, really,” said Zee. “Mum designs houses, Ba does new-body therapy. Raba’s not a big hab so they both had a lot of spare time to raise kids.”

“Are they influential in Raba?” asked Adya’s father.

Zee chuckled. “Hardly. Raba runs everything by itself anyway. There’s a kind of advisory council for the biologicals, and I think Ba was on it for a while. I don’t know if the hab ever took any of his suggestions. Mum’s happiest when she’s working by herself.”

“And are they likely to approve of your dalliance with our daughter?”

Adya went red at

that but Zee only chuckled again. “If they met her, I guess they would. I haven’t seen either of them in years.”

Adya’s father frowned. “You have neither status nor material wealth, then. What can you offer Adya?”

Before Zee could answer, Adya interrupted hastily. “This isn’t the time for all that. Why don’t I show Zee to his room?”

“If you wish,” said her mother. “Vasi, would you help them?”

Adya more or less dragged Zee out of his seat and led him out of the dining room, with both mechs trailing behind. Once they passed through the open doors, she let herself turn magenta with indignation. “The Iris Room! That’s as far as physically possible from my suite. Sundari’s old rooms are just up the hall from mine and she never uses them anymore.”

“I don’t understand why we’re in different rooms at all. Can I just stay with you?”

“Adya’s parents have asked me to stay close to her, for security purposes,” said Vasi.

“Have they?” Adya turned cherry red. “Then I hope you enjoy watching humans fucking because Zee and I are going to be doing a lot of fucking while we’re here. In my room, in his room, in the bath, in the roof garden, maybe even right in the middle of the ballroom. Be sure you record it all so my mother can watch!”

Keeping herself rigid to avoid stomping as she walked, Adya led the little party to a lift platform, which rose to the third floor on a jet of water, and then along one of the outside galleries to a room at the very end. “There! The Iris Room! Where Zee and I are going to be fucking all afternoon. Are you coming in, for security purposes?”

“I don’t think my presence is really necessary,” said Vasi, just before Adya slammed the door.

“There’s obviously a lot going on here, among Adya and her parents,” said Daslakh, as the two mechs turned and went more slowly back up the gallery to the lift. “Care to explain any of it?”

“Are you a Baseline-equivalent mind?” asked Vasi. “I’m not going to waste my time trying to describe human relationships to a mere bot.”

Daslakh’s safety-orange shell began strobing brightly, as if warning of a hazard. “Assume I am, for the moment. Why are you letting Adya’s parents make you act as nanny for a woman who went up against some of the system’s biggest crooks and beat them at their own game?”

“I don’t know anything about that. What I do know is that I accompanied her on the first part of her ridiculous ‘research expedition’ and she refused to accept any of my expert advice and assistance. If it wasn’t for that awful orca ship, I probably could have gotten her to give it up after the first setback.”

“You don’t like Pelagia? Maybe she has some good qualities after all.”

“As to Adya’s parents, I should think it would be obvious. The Elsos are one of the Sixty Families of Miranda. They must maintain their position and form alliances. Their children are some of their most important assets, and it would be a disaster for Adya to form a connection with some offworld nobody. Hence my instructions.”

“Seems as if that kind of backfired: they’re probably connecting pretty vigorously right now.”

“Your human should enjoy it while he can. Adya will have other suitors very soon, all with far more wealth and power than some stick-fighter from the trailing Lagranges.” After a couple of steps, Vasi followed that with a question. “What of yourself? Why are you here?”

“That’s a question of great philosophical complexity. Let’s just say I’m here because I like Zee, and Adya, and I want to see them get the chance to be happy together. And would you please stop trying to get into my mind? ...