Explaining Cthulhu to Grandma and Other Stories

by Alex Shvartsman

  And she shared his interest in the Zyxlar. There were rumors of her committing Antarean resources to the search, despite their ongoing war with the Korten Alliance. It made him wonder whether their first meeting was really prompted by her interest in whatever meager intelligence he could provide, or the desire to meet and evaluate a competitor in the race to uncover the Zyxlar secrets.

  Undeterred by the lack of progress, Jack spent every free minute working on the puzzle. He toiled feverishly for three weeks, getting nowhere.

  Until Kana showed up on his doorstep.

  Malcolm glared at his chief of security. “Let me get this straight. You want to team up with some black ops commander from the Antares Federation to launch an attack against a secret Zyxlar base?”

  Jack chewed his lip and nodded.

  “That would be the same operative who stole an asset from under your nose on New Canberra?”

  “She saved my life, Malcolm. And she’s dealing in good faith. Ace has verified her every word.”

  Kana had sought Jack out because she needed his help. She’d extracted the Zyxlar base location from Prax, and used her spy drones to confirm it. But she’d also discovered that the station was too well-armed. Then her own government had stonewalled her, unwilling to commit more than a few vessels to the mission. Their forces were stretched thin, defending Federation planets against Alliance incursions.

  She needed more firepower. Meager as the Stammiden fleet was by comparison, she needed their ships and men in order to take the station, and she was willing to offer Jack an equal share of whatever they discovered.

  Ace had confirmed her claims.Malcolm frowned. “Just because she isn’t lying doesn’t mean doing what she wants is a good idea.”

  Jack struggled to suppress his annoyance. He’d been an invaluable member of Malcolm’s team, instrumental in their mutual rise to the top. So why had the man been so unsupportive of Jack’s ideas and initiatives? Why did he always act as though Jack was just another political ally, to be used when possible and outmaneuvered when necessary?

  “Do you know that there is a pattern to what the different races believe about the disappearance of the Zyxlar?” asked Jack.

  Malcolm tilted his head. “A pattern?”

  “The warlike Saurians assume that the Zyxlar are on their way over to the next galaxy, in search of new worlds to conquer. The inquisitive Methenes think that the Zyxlar are exploring some higher dimension. The hive-minded Chitters believe the Zyxlar have abandoned their individualism in favor of joining in some sort of an over-mind state of singularity…”

  “I think I understand,” said Malcolm. “Each species is projecting some of their own attributes onto their absent conquerors.”

  “Indeed,” said Jack. “But the Zyxlar don’t think like that, do they? No, they are methodical, careful, eager to play the long game. They’re very much like you, Malcolm.

  “The Zyxlar have been setting up their dominoes for centuries, launching grandiose projects across the galaxy, uplifting species and terraforming worlds, and moving millions of beings across the galaxy in a pattern that’s apparent only to them. Don’t you want to know what that plan is, Malcolm? Don’t you want to know before they return and push that single domino piece in the front, so that you can do your best to stay out of the way when all the rest of the pieces begin to tumble?”

  Malcolm beamed a politician’s smile at his chief of security. “That’s just it, my friend. They’ve set projects in motion that will take centuries to come to fruition. I don’t believe the Zyxlar will be back in our lifetimes, or our children’s lifetimes. Even if I learn their secrets, I am not a good enough strategist to plan ahead by millennia. I’m sorry, but I must say no. I’m not going to order our fleet to go out there to poke at a sleeping chozit bear.”

  Jack tried very hard not to slam the door on the way out.

  “This is a black ops mission,” Jack informed Commander Kraggs, the Saurian in charge of the Stammiden navy. “I’ll take a dreadnought and three frigates. Once we leave, I want a total communication blackout; no messages to or from the fleet until we return. And discuss this mission with no one else in government—the President wants plausible deniability. Should anything go wrong, it’ll only be my head on the spike.”

  From his expression, Kraggs clearly wasn’t pleased to part with such a significant chunk of his navy, but Jack knew the idea to doubt the legitimacy of the planetary chief of security’s orders would never occur to him. By the time Malcolm would realize what had happened, Jack would be long gone, and the radio silence would ensure that Malcolm and Kraggs couldn’t recall his expeditionary force before it completed its mission.

  For all his supposed strategic genius, Malcolm didn’t believe in Jack, didn’t grasp the importance of what his security chief was doing. But Jack knew he was right, and he had no choice but to take matters into his own hands. He would come back with invaluable intel, and perhaps even a bounty of Zyxlar technological wonders that would serve Stammiden better than Malcolm’s political machinations ever could.

  He would show Malcolm that he was right all along. He would show them all.

  Jack’s fleet rendezvoused with Kana’s in deep space. The Antarean expeditionary force consisted of six destroyers and two light cruisers. Along with Jack’s four ships, it made for an impressive amount of firepower. Jack insisted on taking command of the combined fleet, citing the fact that he’d brought the Valiant Wind, one of the jewels of the Stammiden navy, and by far the most powerful of the gathered ships. Kana reluctantly agreed, and joined him aboard the dreadnought, which became the flagship of their fleet.

  The Stacked Deck was parked in the cargo hold of the behemoth, as close as Jack could place it to the bridge. He had Ace continuously scan both the bridge crew and Kana for any signs of deception or insubordination. Nothing could be allowed to go wrong.

  Once on board, Kana provided the coordinates to Jack’s astrogators, and the fleet set course for a system so obscure it only had a number for a name.

  Kana drafted the attack plan based on the reconnaissance info obtained by her spy drones. The ships approached the fourth planet from the system’s red dwarf star. They used an asteroid belt to mask their presence for as long as possible, then charged toward the planet at maximum in-system speed.

  Jack’s heart skipped a beat when he first saw the space station orbiting the planet. The Zyxlar design was unmistakable: they’d installed such high-tech fortresses to guard strategically important worlds all over the galaxy.

  The dreadnought launched attack drones which raced ahead of the fleet, engaging the self-guiding mines and other automated defenses positioned in far orbit. Explosions lit up like fireworks against the black of space as machine battled machine.

  “The station is sending out a coded distress call, sir,” the communication officer called out from her console. “Our computer is attempting to decipher it.”

  Jack nodded.

  As the ships got closer, the station unleashed a volley of missiles. The fleet countered by launching thousands of small magnetic discs, designed to fool the missile guiding systems and explode the charges harmlessly away from their targets.

  Jack felt overwhelmed in the commander’s chair. In addition to the live images displayed on various screens, a steady stream of data on tactical maneuvers, armaments, and astrogation scrolled rapidly down his console.

  The destroyers reached firing range first and made a pass along the station’s perimeter, targeting its defensive armaments with plasma cannons. The station fought back with a mix of laser and projectile weapons.

  Jack concentrated on the data, but trying to read it while the ship twisted and turned during evasive maneuvers made him nauseous. After a while he gave up on trying to process all of it, and settled for relying on the ship’s captain and his experienced crew to handle the details of the battle.

  He gripped the arms of his seat as he watched one of the destroyers take a direct hit from several torpedo
es. It limped away from the station, a jagged hole smoldering at its side. The rest of the destroyers swung around for another pass.

  Jack thought his side was winning, but couldn’t be certain. Around him, the bridge officers coordinated the battle with practiced efficiency. He felt useless, idling in the center of their activity. He tried to look busy, and in control, to inspire confidence in his crew, should any of them find a moment to look up from their own consoles.

  The ship banked hard to the left, then shuddered. Jack held on tight to avoid getting thrown out of his seat. The lights on the bridge dimmed for a fraction of a second. Jack smelled a faint scent of smoke.

  “Deck 14 is sealed off,” reported one of the officers behind him.

  “Power has been rerouted successfully,” said another. “Redundancy systems are at full capacity.”

  Jack glanced at Kana, who observed the battle from her seat on the Valiant’s bridge, as impassive and unreadable as ever. She studied her data feed, and looked steadier than he felt.

  The Antarean cruisers concentrated their fire at the upper rungs of the station, where much of its weaponry was based. Jack’s dreadnought shifted until its portside faced the station and fired its gun batteries, the bridge vibrating with every missile launch.

  Despite the lack of space combat experience, it soon became apparent to Jack that the lone orbital defense station stood no chance against the combined might of twelve warships. His confidence soared with each turret silenced, each defense structure disintegrated or blown away from station proper and sent spinning toward the planet underneath. Within minutes, the fleet obliterated the station’s offensive weaponry, turning entire sections of the vast structure into scrap metal.

  Once he could no longer feel the vibrations of enemy fire against the hull of the dreadnought, and saw the tension draining from the faces of his crew, Jack sat up straight and drew a deep breath. “Cease fire,” he ordered. “Launch the boarding parties.” Jack licked his lips in anticipation. The galaxy’s greatest secret was within his grasp.

  The dreadnought and the frigates stopped firing, but Kana’s ships continued to attack.

  “Tell them to stop immediately,” Jack shouted at Kana. “They’ll damage our prize!”

  Kana made no move to act.

  “The computer has deciphered some of the message, sir,” called out the communications officer. “It has the Korten Alliance signature.”

  The destroyers continued to fire upon the station, while the two cruisers raced toward the planet and dropped a payload of bombs.

  “What is the meaning of this?” Jack drew his gun and pointed it at the Methene’s torso.

  For the first time since the battle had begun, Kana’s facial expression changed. It now matched the one Jack remembered from New Canberra. Kana was smiling.

  “Shooting me might make you feel better, but it won’t change anything,” said Kana. “I exploited your obsession with the Zyxlar and got you to do exactly what I wanted. There was never a secret Zyxlar base. The Stammiden ships just helped take out a Korten Alliance black site, and when the distress call reaches their home world, they won’t be happy.”

  She spoke loudly enough to make sure the bridge crew heard every word. “President Carver managed to keep Stammiden neutral for a long time, but now his hand has been forced. Stammiden can join the Antarean Federation or be crushed by the retaliatory strike from the Korten Alliance.”

  Jack’s head swam. He thought back to the data Kana had fed him, to Prax who was likely an Antarean agent all along, to all the dominoes Kana had patiently set up in order to play him. But, how in the world had she managed to fool Ace?

  “Lucky for him, we like Carver,” said Kana. “He is an excellent strategist, one I look forward to working with. Once he recognizes the reality of his situation, I’m certain he’ll fall in line.” She stared at Jack. “You, on the other hand, will have to resign. Your obsession blinds you. If I could manipulate you this easily, so will others.” She took a step closer to him. “Shoot me to have your revenge, or put down your weapon, and I will help you avoid the firing squad.”

  Reluctantly, Jack lowered his weapon. Inside of his head, Ace was screaming in frustration and rage. The Kanzai did not understand how Kana had concealed her true intentions any more than Jack did, and it was causing him great distress.

  “How… How did you?..” Jack stammered.

  “I know all about your pet octopus,” said Kana. “You rely on the crutch of his mind-reading abilities so much, that you let down your guard and forgot to think for yourself.” She produced a sleek plastic device from one of her suit pockets. “Your Kanzai is enhanced with Zyxlar technology, and all technology can be subverted. This gadget masks my electric bio-signature. When it’s on, I can claim that space is pink and stars are made of porcelain, and he’ll think I’m telling the truth.”

  Jack stood on the bridge of the Valiant Wind, his shoulders slumped, a forlorn Kanzai wailing inside his mind.

  “Set course for Stammiden, Captain,” said Kana. “Malcolm Carver and I have much to discuss.”

  While the Valiant Wind prepared to leave the system, Jack watched Kana’s ships finish off the orbital defense station. Long after the ship had departed, Jack stood on the bridge, staring at the black of space on the monitor screen, the vision of falling dominoes vivid in his mind’s eye.

  This story was originally published in the Dark Expanse: Surviving the Collapse anthology.

  It takes place in the world of the Dark Expanse video game. I wrote it for the anthology I co-edited with the game’s creator Bill Snee.

  Writing in somebody else’s world is an interesting experience. You’re limited in your worldbuilding by the constraints of their universe, but you also have a rich background to draw upon. I created the primary characters for this tale, but the planet Stammiden is from one of Nancy Fulda’s stories. A pair of authors later referenced the Antares Federation I made up in their stories.

  NOTES ON THE GAME IN PROGRESS, PLAYED ALMOST TO A DRAW

  Dedicated to the memory of Roger Zelazny

  It was a great match, until the other side cheated.

  The planet was perfect for the championship game—lush with biomass, dominated by a single intelligent species spread far and wide across its surface.

  Both teams gleefully studied the natives’ history in preparation.

  We opened in Mesopotamia. At Babel, various peoples were conditioned to speak different tongues. Unable to understand one another, the natives steeled their hearts against the other tribes. As ever, war drove progress.

  The Arcturians had conserved their points and let things develop all the way through to the Middle Ages. Then they had introduced the bubonic plague into the yurts of the Mongols. Genghis Khan died in obscurity as a young man.

  It was a subtle but effective move. Without the rise of the Golden Horde there was also no Renaissance, and Europe remained in darkness.

  It would cost too many points to counter effectively, so we chose another play. With their new gunpowder weapons and no threat from the Mongols, the Sultanate of Rum had easily defeated the Crusaders and ushered in a thousand-year Caliphate.

  The Arcturians tried a few other tricks, but our strategy was solid and it cost few points to stave them off. Under the generous patronage of the Caliphate, mathematics and other sciences flourished as never before. By the 1500s, they had colonized the Americas. By the 1800s, they had developed nuclear fission. In 1915, the desperate leaders of a failed uprising in Australia found that they had nothing left to lose. With Caliphate troops on the verge of retaking Canberra, they unleashed the hydrogen missiles.

  The planet looked even prettier in black-and-red than it did in blue-and-white. We won the first round. The Arcturians admitted defeat, and hit reset.

  They adopted a completely different strategy in the second round, spending the bulk of their points on the opening move to go back a million years and introduce bacteria into the ground that slowly and syst
ematically destroyed the planet’s oil reserves.

  It was a brilliant move. We did what we could, but without the fuel for the combustion engine, human technology did not advance quickly enough. Wars were still fought, great steam airships clashing in the sky and raining poisonous gas on the cities below, but in this round the atom wasn’t split nearly soon enough. By the time they had the technology, humans were already too mature to use it toward destruction.

  The round ended when their first nuclear-powered spaceship landed on another planet.

  The score was tied and the match down to the final game.

  With few points left to spend, each side made small, surgical plays after the reset. The Arcturians poisoned Alexander the Great in his early thirties, collapsing his empire too soon. We countered by arming the Roman senators with sharp blades on the Ides of March.

  We burned the Library of Alexandria to dampen the human spirit, and they convinced Leopold Mozart to teach his children music, in order to uplift it.

  It was a great game, with us slowly gaining the advantage. In the 20th century we instigated a pair of World Wars and even managed a handful of nuclear detonations. Victory within decades was almost assured.

  And that’s when the Arcturians cheated. Outplayed and almost out of points, they used the military networks we helped create and turned them into something called the Internet.

  It was pretty much the opposite of the Babel play. Humans from all cultures could now communicate, collaborate, understand each other. How are we to compete with that?

  We did what we could to forestall their space program and temporarily deny the Arcturians victory. But now we’re almost out of points, too, and have to contemplate our next action very, very carefully.

  It will need to be a phenomenal final move.