Para Bellum

by Christopher Nuttall

  They’re infected, she reminded herself, as she put a bullet through a tall alien’s face. It seemed to keep coming until she blew it’s arms and legs into bloody chunks too, at which point it sagged onto the deck and died. She felt as if she was in a zombie movie. They can't help themselves.

  “The hackers are going to work,” Hammersmith reported. “But they’re saying it may take some time.”

  Alice nodded. There was no way the alien computer network would be immediately compatible with the human-designed system. She’d been assured that the combination of translation and adaptation software would be enough to allow the hackers to punch their way into the alien system, but it would take time - and no one, not even the most overconfident spook, had been able to tell her how long it would take. The marines had planned on the assumption that the hackers would never be able to get into the alien system. Alice hoped, as Parkinson directed his men towards the alien engineering compartment, that they wouldn’t need the hackers. They didn't dare count on them.

  The engagement became more and more nightmarish as the marines fought their way towards the bridge. The ship itself seemed to be alive and lashing out at its tormentors, alternatively bathing them in concentrated virus or fiddling with the gravity in hopes of slowing them down. The blobs kept appearing out of nowhere, one landing on top of a marine and cracking through his armour with lethal force. He didn’t live long enough to be infected. Alice hoped his body could be recovered, although she had her doubts. The marines had orders not to take any bodies back to Invincible, but merely burn them in place. She hated the thought of not taking her comrade back home ... yet she understood the logic. A dead body could still infect its former comrades.

  Radcliffe led the charge onto the alien bridge, firing rapidly into the alien positions. It was the strangest place Alice had ever seen, reminding her more of a bathhouse than a starship’s control centre. Blobs sat on top of consoles, reaching for weapons as the marines entered; they were blown away in seconds, leaving the marines alone. A moment later, the lights failed completely. Alice felt ... something ... clutch at her heart before Hammersmith made contact. The hackers had finally managed to get into the alien ship’s control network and shut it down. Or, at least, shut some of it down. There were parts of it, he reported, that seemed immune to tampering.

  “Then we have to sweep the remainder of the ship,” Parkinson said. “And take them all out before they can do something stupid.”

  Alice nodded. “And then the boffins can go to work,” she said. She eyed the remains of one of the blobs, feeling ice at the back of her spine. Water - or concentrated virus - was dripping from the ceiling. “Let them see what they make of the alien ship.”

  ***

  “The marines report that they have swept the ship from one end to the other,” Commander Newcomb reported. “If there are any aliens left alive, they’re very well hidden.”

  Stephen let out a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding. The odds of success had been low, very low, but they’d succeeded. He made a mental note to ensure that the marines were given medals for their success, if Invincible made it back home. They’d also have a fair claim to a considerable amount of prize money. Even if they managed to pull next to nothing out of the alien databanks - and he knew the odds of success there were poor too, no matter what the hackers claimed - the insight into alien technology would make the risk of trying to capture the ship worthwhile. They’d scored a great victory.

  “Shut her down completely,” he ordered, “and then prepare to tow her into deep space.”

  “Aye, Captain.”

  Stephen looked at Alison. “Is there any sign that other alien ships are on their way?”

  “No, Captain,” Alison said. “The sensors are clear.”

  Which doesn't mean they can't be sneaking up on us in cloak, Stephen thought. We have to be careful.

  He studied the console for a long moment, then smiled to himself. “We’ll get her well away from here, then we’ll start inspecting her hull,” he said. “And then we’ll see what we see.”

  “Aye, sir,” Newcomb said.

  “And pass on a message from me to the starfighters and the marines,” Stephen added. “Well done.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  Stephen forced himself to sit back and relax as Austere and Yuriy Ivanov prepared to take the alien ship under tow. They had scored a great victory, although it would be meaningless if they failed to get the data back to Earth. And, while his ship and crew had performed well, he had no illusions about just how badly they’d damaged the alien ability to make war. A lone light carrier wouldn’t materially affect the balance of power between humanity and the virus. The immense fleet they’d seen in Alien-1 wouldn't be delayed by the loss of a single carrier. Their victory here might be their last.

  But the crew doesn't need to know that, not now, Stephen told himself. There will be time for considering the implications later.

  “Captain,” Morse said. “Austere and Yuriy Ivanov report that they are ready to take the alien ship under tow.”

  “Then tell them to begin,” Stephen said. “And take all of our ships into cloak.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  ***

  Alice couldn't help feeling, as she walked through the alien engineering compartment, as though there was something oddly familiar about it. Some aspects of the design - the fusion cores, the power nodes - were almost human, while other elements were very alien. It made her wonder if the virus had had prior contact with humans, although it seemed unlikely. The aliens seemed to have splashed together a hodgepodge of equipment from two or three different races and somehow made it all work together.

  “A remarkable piece of work,” Doctor Tisane said. He was a tall man, with pale skin and intelligent eyes. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  “Not since Warspite,” Doctor Sana Thompson added. “I worked on her back when I was a nipper.”

  Probably not that young, Alice thought. Sana looked young, but she was definitely older than Alice herself. It’s a good point, though.

  She turned her attention to the rest of the compartment as the two scientists continued arguing about how the aliens had forced the different subsections to work together. It was a mess, the deck covered with pools of lethal golden liquid that seemed to glitter under the UV lights the boffins had brought with them. Alice knew the light should kill whatever traces of the virus remained, but she had her doubts. She’d already had to speak quite sharply to the scientists when they’d started talking about removing their protective suits. There was no point in taking chances. The virus could not be allowed a chance to reach Invincible.

  “I think that half of their computer systems were organic,” Sana said, after a moment. “They might have turned the ship into a living creature.”

  “It certainly reacted like one,” Alice said, although she had her doubts. The ship had done nothing that a man sitting in front of a control board couldn't have done. “But we don’t know for sure.”

  “The virus is capable of conveying a great deal of data,” Tisane said. “If they used it as ... as a computer system, it might have been capable of bridging between two different systems.”

  “Which creates a weakness,” Sana said. “They wouldn't have been able to secure their systems as effectively as they might wish.”

  “Which explains why the hackers were able to shut some aspects of it down,” Tisane added.

  “Except the hackers had to get into the ship and find a node first,” Alice reminded him, dryly. “It wasn’t easy.”

  “True,” Sana agreed. “And I don’t see how their data transmission matches ours. Their rates must be quite low.”

  “Perhaps,” Tisane said. “But surely ...”

  Alice looked up as Parkinson entered the compartment. “Alice. Do you have a moment?”

  “I do,” Alice said. The two boffins were still arguing over data transmission rates and wondering if the advantages of using the virus
as a makeshift computer network outweighed the disadvantages. “What can I do for you?”

  “You handled yourself fine during the engagement,” Parkinson said. “You did well.”

  Alice scowled, silently glad her suit would hide the expression. It wasn’t really a compliment. She’d gone through commando training, just like any other marine. She wasn't some spook who wouldn’t be expected to keep up with the marines, someone who’d surprise her escorts if she did keep up with them. She was ...

  “Thank you, sir,” she said, trying to keep her voice even. “It was a cathartic experience.”

  “I bet it was,” Parkinson said. “And I’m afraid the headshrinkers want to talk to you.”

  “Tell them to go to hell,” Alice said. “Sir.”

  Parkinson snorted. “You know I can’t do that,” he said. “And you really do need to talk to them.”

  “I’ll go back on the next shuttle,” Alice said. The alien ship was under tow. It would be at least five hours before Captain Shields felt they’d put enough distance between themselves and the engagement location. “And then I’ll see what I’ll tell them.”

  “The truth, one hopes,” Parkinson said. “I can't clear you for active duty until you’re ready to go.”

  I am ready, Alice said, although she knew better than to say it out loud. She’d seen marines who’d suffered serious injuries insisting that they were still capable of active service. She understood them now, better than she wanted to admit. To give up would be a kind of little death. They don’t know if they can trust me.

  “I’ll go back on the next shuttle,” she said, again. “Until then ... have your boffins figured out anything clever?”

  “Not really, I’m afraid,” Parkinson said. “I left them trying to download the alien computer datafiles.”

  “And probably trying to decrypt them,” Alice said. She was surprised the aliens hadn’t destroyed the computer cores - the Royal Navy’s officers had strict orders to make sure that no computer core fell into enemy hands - but if the virus itself served as a computer core it was quite likely the hackers would get nowhere. The virus had been devastated during the boarding. The network now had more holes than a piece of cheese. “Have they had any luck?”

  “Not so far,” Parkinson said. “But their hopes are high.”

  “And hopefully not misplaced,” Alice said. She tapped her helmet in salute. “I’d better stay here until the shuttle is ready.”

  “See that you do,” Parkinson said. He leaned forward. “And like I said, Alice, you did well.”

  Your approval fills me with shame, Alice thought, wryly. She didn’t want or need his approval, certainly not like that. She’d done her duty and done it well. But I know you want to reassure me.

  She watched him go, then turned her attention back to the boffins. Tisane was drawing up a plan to dismantle one of the fusion cores, while Sana had opened an inspection hatch and was examining the components inside. Her suit was dripping with golden liquid, but she was ignoring it. Alice hoped - desperately - that the boffins understood the dangers. It was easy to underestimate an unconventional threat. The concentrated virus didn't have the same impact as a punch in the face.

  But it will be a great deal more dangerous in the long run, she thought, numbly. I’m the only person who survived an encounter with the virus once I was infected.

  “They set up the system to move viral matter around the starship,” Sana commented, seemingly unaware of Alice’s concern. “I think we have to assume that they did use the virus as a makeshift computer system.”

  “What bad news for the hackers,” Tisane said, dryly. “I’ll see if it’s linked to the fusion cores.”

  “Make sure you get an engineering crew over to take the core apart,” Alice said, firmly. There was no way Tisane could do it alone - and besides, he wasn’t expendable. She would have preferred to keep the engineering crews and leave the boffin on the mothership, but her superiors disagreed with her. “Don’t try to break into the system alone.”

  “I won’t,” Tisane said. “It doesn’t look to be that different from ours, through.”

  “Then we won’t learn anything useful,” Sana called. “At least, not directly.”

  “We’ll learn something about their power curves,” Tisane said. “And that will be useful.”

  And about how we can impede their computer systems, Alice thought. A starship could neither fly nor fight without a working computer network. It had been a long time since spacecraft had flown without computers. What would happen if we devised a counter-virus and let it run loose?

  She paced the compartment as the boffins continued their work, thinking hard. The boarding action had succeeded, through luck as well as judgement, but they couldn’t assume that the next action would be so easy. And it had been easy. If the aliens had realised that their ship could be boarded - and that their first line of defence, the virus itself, could be neutralised - they might have taken more drastic action. No, they would have taken more drastic action. If they’d blown up the ship, thirty marines would have died for nothing. But if their computer system could be taken down so quickly. ...

  You’re here to consult, she told herself, as she activated her recorder. She had to smile, even though she was sure that consultant was nothing more than a consolation prize. So consult.

  She started to speak, outlining her ideas for future analysis. Some of them wouldn't be practical, she was sure, but others might be useful. It would be up to the analysts to determine which of them could be turned into workable hardware within the next few weeks - or which would have to be developed on Earth. Invincible’s machine shop was designed to repair or replace missing components, not produce entirely new hardware from scratch. And yet ...

  We need a camera flash, she thought. It was a simple idea, although she knew there would be a handful of problems that would need to be overcome. Attach it to a drone and fly it through the ship’s corridors. And keep flashing the UV light so the virus keeps dying ...

  “I’d like to call the engineers now,” Tisane said, breaking into her thoughts. The scientist sounded remarkably excited. “I think I’m ready to start dismantling the drive.”

  “That’s not your call, not yet,” Alice said. She checked her timer. It would be another three hours before the ships were well away from the engagement point. Captain Shields wouldn't want to strip his ship of a third of her engineers before they were clear of any possible threats. “Wait for the captain to make the call.”

  “But we could do it now,” Tisane said. “I could ...”

  “Don’t,” Alice said, firmly. She understood the impulse, but she had her orders. “Wait for the engineers.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Samra was dead.

  Richard looked down at the collection of photographs, feeling an odd surge of guilt that he hadn't seen Samra die. He could look back at the records, of course, and pick out the moment when her starfighter had been blown out of space, but it wouldn’t be the same. He’d have to go back through the records anyway, just so he could evaluate the survivors and tell them what they’d done right - and wrong - yet ... he didn't want to do it. He suspected it would only make him feel worse.

  He looked up, silently assessing the pilots as they gathered in the mess room. They looked torn between excitement - and relief for having survived their first real engagement - and guilt, for having survived when some of their comrades had died. Samra and her fellow casualties had been popular. Their loss would be felt by their former comrades, none of whom had the experience to understand that they would lose more friends and comrades over the coming weeks and months. Starfighter pilots suffered the worst losses of any branch of the military, at least since space travel had become routine. The British military hadn't suffered so many losses since the Battle of Britain. Even the Troubles hadn't been so costly.

  “Take a drink,” he ordered, nodding to the decanters on the sideboard. He’d provided the mocktails himself. There was no al
cohol, but the taste would ensure no one would be able to tell the difference. He was entirely sure that someone would have set up an illicit still somewhere on the ship, yet they were in a war zone. Allowing his pilots to drink was a court-martial offense. “We have a lot to discuss.”

  He leaned back in his chair and surveyed the young faces. Some of them understood, now. Their faces bore the scars of what they’d learnt. They knew, deep inside, that they were no longer immortal ... that they’d never truly been immortal. Others didn't believe it, not yet. They didn't want to believe it. Behind them, the older pilots - Monica and her fellows - kept their faces under tight control. They understood, all too well. The next wake might be for one of them.

  It’s dangerous to get too close to anyone, Richard thought. Starfighter pilots were given a great deal of leeway - he might well turn a blind eye if two pilots wound up in bed together - but it came at a price. They never know who might wind up dead tomorrow,