Forerunner

by Isaac Hooke

  “Unleash raptors,” Jain said. “Don’t let those blobs hit. And Mark, Medeia’s range is good. Fire when ready.”

  The lasers dispersed the blobs, preventing them from hitting the Arcane and disintegrating the vessel.

  Meanwhile Mark launched several black hole bolts. These struck the gaps Jain’s barracuda had formed in the vessel, and also the stab wound Medeia’s vacant sword had left in its wake. Upon impact, they materialized. Black holes formed. Loose pieces around the edges of the gaps broke away, sucked inside the tears in reality; those gaps quickly began to turn into craters as the alien ship, unable to utilize its still offline drives, was slowly devoured.

  “The alien is requesting communications,” Xander said.

  Jain shook his head ever so slightly. “Why am I not surprised?”

  25

  “Accept the communication request,” Jain continued.

  Prescott appeared on the virtual bridge before him. “All right, I surrender.”

  “Surrender refused,” Jain said.

  “What?” Prescott said. “You can’t refuse. I’ll give you technology. Weapons.”

  “Why don’t I believe you?” Jain said.

  Prescott took a menacing step forward. “You can’t do this. Your government has interstellar treaties. It is a war crime to destroy a surrendering vessel.”

  “Well, first of all, I don’t trust that you won’t turn around and destroy us as soon as you’re repaired,” Jain said. “Let alone that you’ll share any technology with us. Second of all, we’re not part of this government you speak of. We’re officially rogues. So we don’t respect interstellar treaties.”

  “I left your rift ship intact,” Prescott pleaded. “I specifically granted you this mercy, because I intended to let some of you go.”

  Jain amped up his time sense, freezing Prescott’s avatar as well as everyone else’s. He transmitted his new timebase to the other Space Machinists on a private line and they promptly unfroze when they switched as well.

  “So, I don’t plan to let him live,” Jain said. “Objections?”

  “None,” Mark said. “He killed Cranston and Medeia. He doesn’t deserve our mercy.”

  “We can’t trust this alien,” Gavin interjected. “Especially considering we can’t yet jump out of this system. He could be using spare materials to repair his inertialess drives at this moment, or digesting other parts of his ship with his termites for the same purpose. No matter what he says, if he comes fully online, and we’re still in the system, I doubt he’s going to let us go this time. Especially with the Arcane out of the picture. That’s really the only ship he was ever vulnerable to.”

  “So, we all agree?” Jain glanced at Sheila, who nodded.

  “Still,” Sheila said, folding her arms. “I wonder if we should disperse the black holes before his vessel is completely devoured. You know, to give ourselves an opportunity to salvage some of that wonderful alien technology… there’s so much of that ship that we haven’t yet explored. Can you imagine what we could do if we had inertialess drives?”

  “It’s too risky,” Mark said. “If his AI core, or command center, remains intact after we shut down the black holes, he’ll be fighting us the whole time.”

  “I’d have to agree,” Gavin said. “Let’s just destroy him. He’ll lie in wait, pretending to be offline, and the moment when we’re the most exposed, he’ll open fire and destroy us with that lightning weapon.”

  “All right,” Jain said. “It’s settled. I’d accept his surrender if there was a way we could ensure he wouldn’t attack before we departed, but there just isn’t.”

  He returned his time sense to normal and glanced at Prescott.

  “I do have a question,” Jain said, switching to the common line. “Are you organic, or machine?”

  Prescott smirked. “Let me go and I’ll tell you. I promise I won’t fire on you again. When I complete repairs, I’ll leave this place, and continue to harry the human race. I’ll relay to others of my kind that your particular fleet is not to be bothered ever again. You’ll live in peace. That’s what you want, isn’t it? That’s what all rogues want.”

  “That would be great, if I could believe you,” Jain said. “But unfortunately, given your past behavior, I can’t. Good bye, Prescott, or whoever you are. You’ve made a formidable opponent. I’m almost sad to do this. Almost.”

  “You’ll pay for this,” Prescott said. “You think I alone was a formidable opponent? Wait until my brethren arrive. I am but the forerunner. We’ll destroy your colonies and bases one by one until we reach your homeworld. And once we arrive, we’ll atomize the inhabitants, and—”

  Jain cut the signal.

  “Hey, that was getting kind of entertaining,” Gavin said. A bowl of popcorn had materialized in his hands, and he was munching on the popped kernels.

  Jain shrugged. “I’d had enough.” He pulled up his external camera feed. “Well, it’s time to watch our handiwork. We earned this. Might as well enjoy it.”

  He watched as the black holes continued to enlarge, until finally the entire ship was devoured by them.

  Mark promptly fired his dispersion bolts, because the Space Machinists were being sucked in as well; especially Medeia’s Arcane, which was the closest.

  Jain exhaled, and sat back in his seat. “So, it’s done.”

  “Look at all the work it took us to eliminate that one ship,” Sheila said. “If that was only the forerunner, I hate to think what’s going to happen when more arrive.”

  “We’ll have our work cut out for us,” Jain said. “Or actually, scratch that: the rest of the space navy will. We’re going to be long gone by then.”

  “They don’t want us, after all,” Sheila said.

  “No, they don’t,” Jain agreed.

  “It’s too bad those Piranhas jumped out before Prescott turned,” Mark said. “Now they’ll never believe us. They’ll still think we’re responsible for everything that happened here, and they’ll be blindsided when the Mimics finally attack.”

  “I plan to launch a probe deeper into human space before we depart,” Jain said. “A probe containing a video log of everything that happened here. It will be our last present to them.”

  “They probably won’t believe it,” Gavin said.

  “I know,” Jain said. “But we have to try.”

  “So, when the Daktor is repaired, and we’ve dispatched that probe of yours, what direction are we going to take?” Gavin asked. “Coreward?”

  Jain nodded. “I want to get as far away from here as possible.”

  “How do we know we won’t end up deeper in Mimic territory?” Gavin said.

  “If we do, we’ll retreat, and keep retreating until we find a system that is free,” Jain said. “And then we’ll continue coreward, jumping from system to system until the last alien we encountered is several hundred light years behind us.” He paused to regard his Space Machinists, focusing on each face in turn. The faces of his friends. “Maybe someday we’ll return to human territory, after we’ve built a base and a bigger fleet. But until then, we’re not welcome here. Not by humanity and its Mind Refurbs, nor these Mimics.”

  Jain and the Space Machinists remained in orbit and launched their repair swarms to mend all of damage they had accumulated thus far. They also reactivated the Daktor so that it could fix its ruined gate segment.

  Unfortunately, Jain had to restore Cranston and Medeia from backups, as their AI cores hadn’t survived the lightning attack.

  When it was done, Cranston and Medeia materialized on the bridge. They both looked stunned.

  Cranston glanced down at his body, and his eyes defocused.

  “Lost time,” Cranston muttered. He looked at Jain. “We died again?”

  “I’m afraid so,” Jain said.

  Cranston appeared thoughtful. “So, a part of me gets to find out what exists beyond this life then, after all. Whether or not we machines have a soul.”

  “I’m sure we do,” Jai
n said. “Right now, the other you is unraveling the vast mysteries of the universe as we speak.”

  “Or he’s simply floating in darkness,” Cranston said. “Like our intermedial loading stage. Hovering in that senseless, eternal oblivion.”

  Jain didn’t say anything. He didn’t have the heart to, because while he didn’t know the truth, didn’t know what awaited beyond this machine life, sometimes he felt Cranston had it right. Oblivion awaited. Senseless, thoughtless oblivion.

  We’re not human. How can we have souls?

  Medeia’s voice drew him out of his dark thoughts.

  “I’m having trouble remembering who I am,” Medeia said. “My past. I mean, the past few months since I awoke are crystal clear. But before that, it’s blurry. I remember three kids. Two girls, one boy. I think they’re mine, but, I don’t remember what they were like. Just their faces...”

  Jain nodded. “Unfortunately, your backup was only partially intact. The alien fired his lightning weapon repeatedly against you, out of spite mostly. So we expected you would have holes in your memory. Sort of like I do.”

  “Except you weren’t restored from a backup,” Mark said.

  “No,” Jain said, lowering his eyes. He was the only one who hadn’t yet died since first awakening. Not that that meant anything.

  Sure it means something. I haven’t had to test whether I have a soul, yet.

  “You don’t remember your kids anymore?” Sheila asked Medeia.

  “Not really,” Medeia told her.

  “That’s probably for the best,” Sheila said. “Their memory tortured you. You told us once, after we restored you the first time, that you wished you had never done this to yourself. Never scanned your mind.”

  Medeia slowly nodded. “Maybe my memory loss is for the best, then.”

  It took another two days for the Daktor to finish repairing the gate section. By then the space navy had returned with reinforcements. Jain didn’t have to send a probe deeper into human space with a video log of his final fight after all: he was able to send it directly to the reinforcements.

  Unfortunately, the video and the accompanying message were met with the same skepticism the last battle group had exhibited, and they insisted that the Space Machinists surrender forthwith.

  “They’re never going to believe us,” Mark said.

  “No, not until the Mimics return in force,” Jain said. “But as I told Gavin, I had to try. My conscience wouldn’t let me do otherwise.” He glanced at Sheila. “Jump us out of here.”

  “Just for you,” she replied.

  The reinforcements were still half a day away when the team jumped. In the new territory, the Space Machinists computed a jump vector to a system fifty light years away, and when twelve hours had passed since the last rift, they jumped again. In this way they continued to move slowly coreward, calculating based on the positions of high metallicity stars they picked out via spectral bands.

  Repairs to the rest of the starships were finished at that point. Sheila had devoted several of her internal 3D printers to developing new human-sized combat robots, and she presented him with the final copies a week after starting. They were too big to fit any of his conduits, so he had to keep them permanently stowed in his more spacious cargo bay.

  “These will prove handy if we ever want to do any urban spelunking,” Jain said.

  “Yes, we’ll need a planet with life for that,” Sheila said.

  “I’ll let you know as soon as we spot one,” Jain said.

  They continued jumping from system to system, putting as much distance between themselves and human space as possible.

  Two and a half weeks later, in some tertiary star system, Sheila informed him that she finished the off-site backup pods.

  “Well that was early,” Jain said.

  “I got a little lucky,” Sheila told him. “The failure rate wasn’t as bad as I originally predicted.”

  The team members transferred copies of their backups to her. The bandwidth requirements made it so they had to be in close proximity to the Wheelbarrow, and each ship spent two hours transmitting the required data. Then she dispatched the pods to each of the Space Machinists via her transports.

  Jain gingerly loaded the copies into his cargo bay. He was carrying one pod for each member of the team, for a total of six. The other members likewise carried six pods.

  “Talk about off-site, redundant backups,” Cranston said. “This is overkill.”

  “But I feel better already,” Sheila said.

  “I don’t,” Gavin said. “If we die, those backups aren’t us. We’ve been over this.”

  Jain glanced at Cranston and Medeia, who refused to meet his eyes. They stared at their consoles, as if totally absorbed in their private HUDs.

  Sheila noticed their discomfort but didn’t say anything. She returned her attention to Gavin. “I’m just happy my memories and personality will live on. None of you will be able to tell the difference, and that’s all that matters. Besides, when it comes down to it, the dead don’t care: it’s the living who these backups are for. There are more than a few people I would have liked to have backups of while I was still human, that’s for sure. But now, you guys are all I have. If any of you die, of course I’m restoring you.”

  “So we can keep you company...” Gavin said flatly.

  “That’s right!” Sheila said.

  Cranston looked up. “You know, that actually makes me feel better. I was beginning to wonder if maybe it might be better if you never revived me. I felt like a copy of a copy, someone you revived out of obligation, or maybe guilt. But now I realize it’s more than that. So much more. I’m making a difference in your lives.”

  “You are,” Jain agreed. “We’re always going to be here for one another. We’re closer than any family will ever be. Closer than brothers and sisters.”

  Mark reached out and gripped Medeia by the hand. She looked up into his eyes, and her own were glistening.

  “It’s time to jump again,” Jain said.

  “When are we going to stop?” Gavin asked. “And start building that base you talked about? We have a fleet to construct, remember.”

  “I’m not really sure,” Jain said. “Maybe when we find a system that feels like home.”

  “You know, I’ve always said, home is up here,” Gavin tapped his temple. “We bring it with us wherever we go, thanks to VR.”

  “I suppose we do,” Jain said. “But we still have an external home. Or we will, once we choose to settle down. But until then, Sheila: fold space. Tunnel us to that star.”

  “First star on the left and straight on until dawn,” Sheila said.

  Jain frowned at her. “You mangled the quote, you know, Machinist’s Mate...”

  “Just for you, Admiral,” she said with a wide grin.

  Thank you very, very much for reading.

  I hope you enjoyed Forerunner. Visit the below link to be notified of any future sequels, or to discover other books in the Mind Refurb universe.

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  Afterword

  Please help spread the word about Forerunner by leaving a one or two sentence review. The number of reviews an ebook receives has a big impact on how well it does, so if you liked this story I'd REALLY appreciate it if you left a quick review. Anything will do, even one or two lines.

  Thank you!

  Also, if you’d like to see a sequel to Forerunner, let me know in the reviews.

  About the Author

  USA Today bestselling author Isaac Hooke holds a degree in engineering physics, though his more unusual inventions remain fictive at this time. He is an avid hiker, cyclist, and photographer who sometimes resides in Edmonton, Alberta.

  Get in touch:

  isaachooke.com

  isaac@isaachooke.com

  Acknowledgments

  I’d also like to thank my knowledgeable beta readers and advanced reviewers who helped smooth out the rough edges of the prerelease manuscript: Nicole P., Lisa G.
, Karen J, Jeremy G., Doug B., Jenny O., Amy B., Bryan O., Gary F., Lezza, Noel, Anton, Spencer, Norman, and Trudi.

  Without you all, this novel would have typos, continuity errors, and excessive lapses in realism. Thank you for helping me make this the best novel possible, and thank you for leaving the early reviews that help new readers find my books.

  And of course I’d be remiss if I didn't thank my mother, father, and brothers, whose wisdom and insights have always guided me through the winding paths of space and time.

  — Isaac Hooke

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