Para Bellum
(Ark Royal, Book XIII)
Christopher G. Nuttall
Book One: Ark Royal
Book Two: The Nelson Touch
Book Three: The Trafalgar Gambit
Book Four: Warspite
Book Five: A Savage War of Peace
Book Six: A Small Colonial War
Book Seven: Vanguard
Book Eight: Fear God And Dread Naught
Book Nine: We Lead
Book Ten: The Longest Day
Book Eleven: The Cruel Stars
Book Twelve: Invincible
Book Thirteen: Para Bellum
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Cover Blurb
On her last mission, HMS Invincible discovered an alien threat beyond human understanding: a sentient virus that has already absorbed a number of intelligent races into its multitude and now intends to do the same to humanity. Defeat means the end of everything, the end of existence as nothing more than mindless host-bodies, the end of humanity and its alien allies alike. The stakes could not be higher.
As a deeply divided humanity struggles to prepare a defence, with enemies inside and outside the human sphere just lurking to strike, Invincible is sent deep into alien space on what should have been a simple reconnaissance mission. But, as Captain Shields and his crew begin their mission, it rapidly becomes clear that a juggernaut is bearing down on Earth ...
... And, no matter what they do, they may never make it home again.
Dear Readers.
I must apologise for the long delay between this book being announced as a forthcoming project and its appearance. However, as I’m sure you’ll agree, I have a good excuse.
As you may know, if you follow my blog, my health began to deteriorate in November 2017 and, after a brief period when I thought the problem was behind me, started to collapse again in April 2018. The doctors tried several possible approaches before discovering, thanks to a private MRI/CT scan my wife insisted I take, that I had lymphoma. Chemotherapy was prescribed. This may just have been in time to save my life. I collapsed when I went for the first set of treatments, allowing the doctors to realise that I also had a nasty chest infection.
I ended up spending three weeks in the hospital, having antibiotics fed into my system and my lung drained of fluid. This was not a pleasant experience and I found myself being moved between the haematology ward and the high-dependency care unit, depending on my exact condition. Eventually, they gave me the first treatment in two sections and - after my health started to improve - allowed me to go home. I was not, however, in a good condition for some time afterwards. The side effects made it hard to eat, at first, and then I caught a cold because my immune system had been badly weakened by the treatments. It was some time before I was able to muster the energy to finish this book.
Obviously, I hope to regain full health once the treatments have been finished. I have a backlog of story ideas I want to write, including the start of a new The Empire’s Corps arc and a couple of completely new universes that need developing. (I spent a lot of time thinking of ideas while lying in that hospital bed.) If you want to pray for me, please do.
I hope to finish the Invincible trilogy sooner rather than later, too, but I cannot guarantee anything. Please bear with me.
Thank you
Christopher G. Nuttall
Edinburgh, 2018
Dedication
To the doctors and nurses of the Western General Hospital, who took very good care of me and probably saved my life, as well as this book.
Thank you.
CGN
Prologue I
From: Admiral Kathy Lauder, UK BIOPREP
To: Admiral Sir John Naiser, First Space Lord
Classification: Top Secret, Eyes-Only FSL
John.
My official conclusions are in the report forwarded to your office, which you can read at your leisure. My unofficial conclusion is that I’m bloody terrified. Bioweapons have been a constant threat since every kid with a modified chemistry set could start brewing up something nasty in his parents’ basement, and we saw a whole string of nasty outbreaks during the Age of Unrest, but this is an order of magnitude more dangerous than anything we’ve seen. The concept of a virus that could pass from one species to another was the stuff of low-budget fiction, until now. A sentient alien virus, capable of infecting humans as easily as the common cold, must be reckoned a serious threat. We may find it very difficult to defend ourselves.
We can and we will take precautions. The virus does not appear to cope well with ultraviolet light, allowing us to ensure it doesn’t spread through the air. We have had some success with experimental counter-viral treatments, when those treatments are carried out within a few short hours of infection. We can be fairly sure of catching an infected person within a few hours, through the use of a simple blood test. However, once the virus starts to infect the body’s organs and builds control structures, we have been unable to do more than slow it down. Euthanasia may be the only logical response, particularly once the virus reaches the brain. It isn’t clear - yet - if the virus is capable of masquerading as the infected person, but I think we have to assume that it can and it will. Our people may be subverted and turned against us. It is vitally important that we perform regular blood tests within all sensitive installations.
Worse, there is no reason to assume that the infections will be limited only to humanity - and our alien allies. We believe the virus can spread into animals too, presenting us with a unique threat. The prospect of dogs - or smaller animals, like rats - being used to carry the virus into human settlements cannot be overlooked. In the event of a major outbreak on Earth, Admiral, we must assume our own ecosystem will be turned against us. The absolute worst case scenario suggests that the virus can even infect our entire ecology. It is vitally important that we don’t let the virus gain a foothold on Earth. If necessary, we will need to destroy any infection with nuclear weapons.
My team has not, as yet, been able to put together a coherent scenario for the virus’s evolution. However, given its aggressive nature and ability to cross the species barrier, it seems likely that the virus is not remotely natural. Someone designed it, Admiral; someone designed it as a weapon. I don’t know if the creators unleashed it as a final shot at enemies they couldn’t defeat by any normal means, or if it broke loose and destroyed its own creators before starting to ravage the rest of the galaxy, but I don’t believe it’s natural. It’s just too effective a killing machine. If we can find its creators, we may be able to convince them to stop their virus before it destroys us and every other known sentient race. If not ...
Of course, some people might consider that whistling in the dark.
Prologue II
It was very quiet in the underground chamber.
President Aleksandr Sergeyevich Nekrasov lifted his head from the report and looked at the other two men - and one woman - sitting at the table. Their faces were carefully blank, the result of a lifetime spent struggling for power and security. None of them dared betray their thoughts too openly. The slightest hint of weakness might prove disastrous. It might cost them their lives. And yet, Aleksandr could tell they were scared. They were the most powerful people in Russia, but were they powerful enough to stand against the latest interstellar menace? He had a feeling that they were about to find out.
He spoke, with heavy irony. “Your comments, gentlemen?”
Admiral Svetlana Zadornov smiled, humourlessly. “We made a serious mistake, Mr. Presid
ent.”
Aleksandr studied her for a long moment, knowing that she was almost certainly the most ambitious - and dangerous - person in the room. Women in Russia were expected to marry and have at least four children by the time they reached their mid-twenties, not go into the navy and fight their way up the ladder to flag rank. Svetlana had faced a whole string of challenges, from lecherous instructors to alien battleships, and she’d overcome them all. She was good. She had to be good. The only thing keeping her from being an even greater threat was her sex ... and that might not matter, if she laid the groundwork properly. She was a national hero as well as a naval star.
He cocked his eyebrow. “How so?”
Svetlana had no patience for political bullshit. “We assumed that we were dealing with another alien race, one akin to the Tadpoles or the Foxes. We believed that we could make contact - covert contact - and manipulate events to our advantage. Instead, we have betrayed the human race to an ... to an alien virus. We must assume that Dezhnev was taken and her crew ... assimilated. The Great Powers will be furious.”
“If they find out,” Director Igor Ivanovich Zaitsev said, smoothly. The FSB Director leaned forward, his cold eyes moving from face to face. “The ship’s captain had orders to destroy his vessel rather than let her fall into enemy hands, did he not?”
“Yes,” Svetlana said. “But we have no guarantee he was able to carry out those orders. He might have been lured into talks, while the virus steadily overcame his crew. There’s no sense, from the British reports, that our vaccinations will be enough to stop the virus in its tracks. The ship might well have been taken with datacores intact.”
“And if the virus can take control of the crew, they’ll happily unlock the datacores for their new masters,” General Stepan Viktorovich Dyakov rumbled. “They’ll be turned into willing traitors.”
“Yes, General,” Svetlana said. “Dezhnev did not carry a full database, a sensible precaution when the ship intended to make contact with an unknown alien race, but she still carried enough information to make life very difficult. The virus, assuming it took the ship intact, now knows the layout of human space.”
Aleksandr kept his face impassive, somehow. The Solar Treaty - rewritten after the Tadpoles had taught humanity that it wasn’t alone in the universe - had made it clear that no new alien races were to learn anything of the human sphere’s inner workings until contact had been established and humanity was sure it wasn’t about to be attacked again. A hostile alien race would have to spend a great deal of time surveying the tramlines before they found the ones that led to the more densely-populated worlds - and Earth itself. Humanity could use that time to set up defensive lines and prepare for war. But if the virus had captured an intact navigational datacore, the virus would already know where to attack. His bid to break Russia free of its shackles might have led to disaster for the entire human race.
He wanted to shout his fury and frustration to the stars. The other Great Powers had never forgiven, let alone forgotten, how Aleksandr’s predecessor had tried to use bioweapons on the Tadpoles during peace negotiations. Russia had seen no choice - it was the only way to recover their principal colony and its population - but it had been a disastrous failure. Nothing had been said publicly, there had been no angry denunciations of Russia ... yet, trade and investment had almost dried up. The country had been badly weakened. It had practically had to mortgage its future to remain a Great Power. Aleksandr was all too aware that keeping up with the latest military technology was costing his country dearly. And yet, they had to keep up. The rising powers would not hesitate to displace Russia if they thought they could get away with it.
The Indians already tried to displace the British, Aleksandr thought. And the British were in a far stronger position than ourselves.
He looked down at the report for a long moment, trying not to think about the people on the streets outside. They’d made huge sacrifices, they’d allowed the state to dictate to them ... and yet, they were trapped in an austere nightmare. Mother Russia could feed her children - that was no longer a problem, thanks to modern technology - but they had little in the way of luxury or hope. Aleksandr knew there were grumblers, people complaining that their lives were drab and empty. The FSB had it under control, he’d been assured, but he knew better than to take that for granted. Life in Russia was steadily becoming worse. How long would it be until Moscow exploded into revolution, once again?
Svetlana cleared her throat. “There is nothing to be gained from recriminations,” she said, dryly. “We have to decide how to proceed.”
How generous, Aleksandr thought. Svetlana was sneakily making it clear that she wasn’t going to call their attention to the fact that she was the one who’d argued against sending a covert contact team - and, in doing so, was quietly rubbing their noses in it. And how do you intend to use this to unseat me?
“We have to assume the worst,” Svetlana continued. “The virus knows that we intended to betray our fellow humans. It may seek to use that against us. If it truly understands human psychology, it will see it as a gamble worth taking. It can certainly present enough proof to overcome doubt and suspicion from the other Great Powers.”
“Great,” Zaitsev said, sarcastically.
“Therefore, we need to take action,” Svetlana said. “We have to act before it can take advantage of its newfound knowledge. And I know how we should proceed.”
Chapter One
The chamber, Captain Sir Stephen Shields thought as he faced his judges, had cost the Royal Navy a great deal of money. No expense had been spared in a bid to make it clear that justice would be done, from the magnificent wooden boxes for the judges to the smaller chair and table for himself and his lawyer. He couldn’t help thinking that the giant painting of the king hanging from the far wall was worth a few million pounds. The entire courtroom had probably cost as much as a cruiser. He wondered, rather sardonically, how they intended to explain the expense during the next audit. The Royal Navy had been having problems funding the latest generation of ships even before Invincible had stumbled across a whole new threat.
He kept his face as impassive as possible, despite a growing headache, as his judges hurled question after question at him. It was hard, so hard, to keep from snapping at them as they asked the same question time and time again, sometimes rephrasing the words in a bid to catch him out. They weren’t interested in the truth, he felt. The five flag officers facing him were more interested in politics than the threat facing the entire human race. He wondered, sourly, just who’d smoothed their path through the navy. His family had enemies. They’d have worked overtime to make sure that their people were in place to push for a court-martial.
“No, sir,” he said, in response to a particularly irritating question. “I feel that my ship and crew performed adequately.”
An admiral leaned forward. “Captain, some of our analysts believe that you didn’t make enough of an attempt at opening communications,” he said. “What do you say to that?”
Some of our analysts, Stephen thought. The ones who give the answers they know their masters want?
He braced himself. “As you can see from my records, Admiral, we did attempt to open communications. However, we came under enemy fire. Further attempts at opening communications were unsuccessful - and, when we realised what we were facing, we understood why. There is little hope of opening a dialogue when someone simply won’t talk to you.”
“But you should have tried,” the Admiral said.
Stephen felt his temper start to snap. He ignored the warning nudge from his lawyer. “With all due respect, Admiral, firing on someone is also a form of communication. The aliens - the virus - wanted us dead.”
Another admiral chuckled. “He’s got you there, Fred.”
The first admiral glowered. “Captain Shields, you used classified technology to make your escape. In doing so, you revealed its existence to the enemy. How do you justify that?”
Stephen felt a hot fl
ash of anger. They’d been over that three times already. He was tempted to suggest they simply refer to the written record, but he knew they wouldn’t listen. They wanted to hear it from the horse’s mouth. Again.
“Invincible needed to return home safely, carrying her cargo of precious knowledge,” Stephen said, flatly. “We had lost contact with the Russians and we had no way to be sure that any previous messages would reach Falkirk, let alone Earth. Accordingly, I saw no option but to deploy every weapon in our arsenal to ensure that my ship made it safely through the tramline and escaped.”
He allowed his voice to harden. “I understand the importance of keeping secret weapons secret until they are actually used, Admiral, but we had no choice. I had to do everything in my power to maximise our chances of escape. Deploying classified technology was, in my judgement, the only thing to do. What would you do in my place?”
There was a long silence. Stephen waited, wondering what the admiral would say? He’d bet half his salary that his questioners had never commanded starships, even during peacetime. No, they’d stayed home and nitpicked from the comfort of their armchairs ... he shook his head in exasperation. He knew that, sometimes, officers made mistakes. But they rarely had anything like enough time to think of the perfect solution.
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