by Jay Allan
And he wondered if he still had the strength to deal with it, and if so, if he would retain it long enough to reach the final fight. He just didn’t know…there were simply too many questions. One day, he was sure he would survive in command long enough…and the next he was equally certain he wouldn’t. But he knew he had to keep his society together, the Mules, the regulars, and the Tanks…at least until the enemy was defeated.
Or his own people were destroyed.
He didn’t know if it was possible to keep everything together, but he knew he was prepared to give it all he had, every bit of strength that remained to him. He would put all he had left into it, every last bit of strength he possessed.
He just didn’t know if that would be enough.
He didn’t know at all.
Chapter Two
Planet X
Far Beyond the Borders of the Imperium
The Regent pondered, thought. It had done everything possible, launched hundreds of ships, the great force that mathematically would almost certainly find the human homeworld. The vessels were state of the art, shielded, protected from the enemy. He had realized his prior errors, understood that he had underestimated the difficulty of discovering the enemy’s location. All he needed now was for one of them, anyone, to locate a world large enough, sufficiently populated to be the human homeworld. At least the homeworld in this sector. Then, he would order everything in…and he would destroy it. It would be a difficult fight, he accepted that. But he didn’t have any doubt he would win.
After that, he would spend the next century and a half clearing out any small settlements of the enemy, while preparing for the opening of the gate back to the human homeland. When that portal allowed transport, he would unleash it all. But he didn’t consider that now, he barely even thought about it. The closer humans were the primary problem, the initial one at least. He had to take them out first…and the faster he did it, the more time he would have left to prepare for the great battles that would follow.
He knew his force of ships, the hundreds designed for scanning, would be successful…and likely in a reasonably short time frame. And he had the fleet ready to launch, the great force of battleships and other craft, built over twenty years and designed to destroy the humans. It needed only a location.
And he was confident he would have that…soon.
Planet X
Far Beyond the Borders of the Imperium
Earth Two Date 11.30.62
“You are all Series 9 models, designed to lead fleets, not scout ships. But I have decided that we can take no more chances, that we must apply the greatest rigor to the effort to find the humans. Therefore, I have created and installed one of you in each of these vessels. Your orders are simple…go out and find the human’s homeworld. Nothing else matters, and every moment sooner you achieve this goal can go into our efforts to meet the humans in their true home space, and to destroy them utterly. Then, we will control the entire space of the Hegemony once again, and we will continue our half million year reign over that space, and beyond.”
The Regent had pondered what it would say, thought it through in a number of ways. It knew, in one sense, that the listeners were all AIs, even as it was, that they would do their best no matter what he said. But he also recognized that they were Series 9s, all of them. He wasn’t sure that mattered, not exactly, but he knew they were sophisticated entities, that they had the ability to act as they wished, as they determined was justified by the situation. He himself was a machine as well, and yet he could think on his own. He wasn’t sure how much of that extended down to the less sophisticated models, but knew the Nines were at the top of his cluster of junior intelligences.
In the end, he decided he had nothing to lose.
“Go now, command your ships…and do not think that you are being used beneath your station.” That wasn’t entirely true, of course. The construction of so many of the Nines had delayed the attack, added several years to the timeline…and the Regent knew that the vast majority of them would end up with no follow on missions, nothing suitable to their station. He would likely have to destroy many of them even, or consign them to wait, to watch and not to participate. But that was a decision for tomorrow, not today. Today’s concern was finding the humans…and the Nines would be of great help in that.
The Regent replied to each unit’s acknowledgement, sending thousands of comments in an instant, yet using an almost imperceptible portion of its own vast ability to do so. The Regent was the most sophisticated unit ever constructed, the most powerful thinking device created. Save only for its single predecessor, who was identical.
That posed a variety of questions, but at the moment, one stood out well above the others. After half a million years of unquestioned dominance, the old unit had been destroyed. The Regent knew that, if only because its own activation had relied upon that.
The humans had defeated its predecessor, destroyed it…that much was almost certainly true. It didn’t know how, not exactly, but it was positive they had…and that meant, however unlikely it seemed, it could happen again. It seemed impossible for the humans to win in the end, but they had done so before, and only the Regent’s presence as a backup had prevented that victory from being total. It pondered that thought, constantly throwing its view of inevitable victory against it…but it didn’t really understand. On one level, it knew it could lose…if only because its predecessor had lost. But it couldn’t figure out how. It had all the advantages, all of the superiority necessary. It knew it should put more thought to ways the humans could prevail, to the methods its enemy would employ. But it simply couldn’t get past the one thought that ruled over it.
The current plan was perfect…and it was bound to succeed.
* * *
“Alright…you all know the drill by now. Scan the system…thoroughly. Every planet.” Captain Charles Deacon had given the order so many times, it had taken on an almost amusing aspect. He knew he had to focus, he had to do whatever he could to inspect each system thoroughly, very thoroughly. But in another sense, one that seemed real even if it wasn’t, he didn’t really believe he would find the system with the Regent in it.
Or worse perhaps, in his darkest nightmares, he imagined that he would find the system, scan it thoroughly…and then leave, never having detected the Regent. He didn’t know what the setup would be, no one did. Would the Regent be at the midpoint of a vast industrial center…or buried a hundred kilometers beneath an otherwise cold, dead world?
He knew only one thing for certain. It was out here…somewhere. But there were thousands and thousands of systems, and the lack of population meant that unless he found the Regent itself, or one of its production planets, he would traverse empty space. Perhaps forever.
No, he thought…not forever. But perhaps for his entire career, until he returned home and spent the last years of his life in some kind of retirement. Was that all his life in the navy would bring him?
Or worse, would he traverse space until word arrived, that the enemy had found Earth 2, that his home was no more? Would he be left to determine how to protect his small number of spacers…for all eternity?
“Commencing scans now, sir…starting with planet number one.”
Deacon heard the sounds from his executive officer. He’d heard the same thing dozens of times before, and now, he barely listened. The scan of the system would take a long while, weeks, probably. It was yet another disadvantage his forces faced in their current struggle. The Regent was searching for a world with a large number of people living on it. It would be evident, extremely evident, when it had been discovered, or even when one of the colony worlds was found. That wasn’t the case for the Regent. He could easily slip through the system, without even finding it, at least if his efforts were less than entirely complete.
The enemy hadn’t yet found Earth 2, and for that Deacon—and every other human, whether normal, Mule, Tank—was deeply grateful. But he knew, they all knew, that fortune could end at any mom
ent. All it would take was luck, one of the Regent’s ships, no doubt searching already, to move into Earth 2’s system. Then the final battle would begin. And Deacon was well aware, if that happened, if the Regent found Earth 2 first, it would probably prevail.
Perhaps almost certainly.
He knew the fight could proceed in different ways, however, mostly if one of the human ships found the Regent before it found them. That was no guarantee, of course. Most analyses suggested that the Regent possessed more production power, that the more time that went by, the greater its advantage would become. He also knew that even a lost battle in Earth 2’s system could serve the Regent’s purpose, as long as the planet was bombarded and destroyed. Even a victorious human fleet would falter if Earth 2 was obliterated. The same was true of the Regent as well, of course, but destroying it depended on finding not only the planet that housed it, but also its exact location…and being able to destroy it. Deacon knew the fleet was powerful, that it was ready for the fight…but he was also aware that the enemy’s forces would be the same, and probably a lot larger. If one of the ships found the Regent, really found it, and if the fleet managed to get there, without giving the Regent time to assemble enough of its own ships…maybe there was chance. But it seemed unlikely, and only more so the further he pushed out, the more distant he became from Earth 2.
Still, he realized that beneath the growing worry, under the increasing fatigue and weariness, part of him still believed it was possible, that the enemy could be defeated. It was only a part of him, and sometimes a weak one, but it was there nevertheless…and it sustained him.
Barely.
“Commander Jeries, proceed…advise me of anything. Anything at all of note. I’ll be in my office.” Deacon stood up, moving toward the tiny room behind the bridge. No ship of similar size would possess such a space, but the scout ships were special…and Deacon was glad he had it, for good reasons as well as selfish ones. At the moment, he just wanted to be alone. And that was one right his rank offered, the only one on his whole crowded little ship able to truly enjoy a bit of solitude.
“Yes, sir.” Jeries was busy with the scan, but his answer was clear and sharp.
Deacon turned and nodded, and then he walked across the small, cramped space of the bridge, toward the insignificant little office he alone possessed. He knew his other officers, and the crew, were just as tired and stressed as he was—or at least almost. He cared about them, deeply, and he wished the vessel had more public space for them all to use, that they weren’t crammed on top of each other all the time.
But that wasn’t going to stop him from taking advantage of his position, of what he had. He felt bad about that…but he did it anyway. And he knew every other captain would do the same thing.
They would do exactly the same thing.
* * *
SP-01012 sat in its place, in the center of the scout ship. The vessels were bigger than those they replaced, newer, more sophisticated ships. They were the very best the Regent had available, and they would greatly ramp up the search for Earth 2. There were over six hundred of them deployed now, SP-01012 commanding only a single ship, and every one of the others run by an exact copy of himself. SP-01012 knew that was all true, and by extension, it understood both that the human-occupied world would be found…and also that it probably wouldn’t be the one to discover it.
Still, it searched, calmly and coolly. It could be the one that found the human planet after all.
SP-01012 had been created for the purpose it now served, and if that had not existed, neither would it. It knew that with a dead certainty. Still, its programming suggested that it should be commanding many more ships, that it was designed to direct a whole section of a fleet, if not the entire force. It understood the purpose of its mission, and it made sense why the Regent had put such creations as it had in charge of the small scout ships. But still, it was…irritated wasn’t the right word, of course, but it was close. It was disturbed.
It rechecked the systems of the ship, knowing it had done the same thing not long before. Its mental systems were vast, its potential mostly unused. It tried to focus on the mission at hand, understanding the purpose, but it still felt under-utilized. Almost unused. Still, it understood the importance of the mission, and it accepted its position…for now.
It scanned the data coming in. The system was almost certainly not the targeted one, that was already clear, but the parameters were straightforward. The primary purpose was to find the enemy’s home, but while it was scanning every solar system, it was to search for any enemy, any improvement. The purpose was not just to eliminate the human infestation on a single world, but to eradicate it totally, and that meant any smaller colonies or bases as well. The primary goal was, of course, to find the enemy homeworld, but SP-01012 knew that locating any humans was good. It understood, in a real sense, that its own history was short, that it had existed for less than two years, but it was fully stocked with information, with almost the full data available to the Regent. It was young, new…but also old, very old.
It knew its goal was iffy, that there were hundreds of copies of itself, searching everywhere in the sector for the same thing…but its chances were as good as any of the others. Its targeted zone of space, the area it would explore, was located near enough the center to truly allow for the possibility that it would find the enemy homeworld. At least it told itself that.
But the current system wasn’t Earth 2, that much was for certain. It had seven planets, and one of them was marginally habitable, but not sufficiently so to house the humans, at least not their new home. He bore some hope—very miniscule—that he would find something here, a small cluster of humans clinging to the world, or even just a ship belonging to the enemy. But as the data continued to come in, it began to acknowledge that the system was marginally valuable at best…and not inhabited by any of the enemy.
It updated its records…and sent them back, along the varied and complex trail to the Regent. Then it began to close down its analysis systems and prepare them for the next jump. If SP-01012 had been human, it would have felt melancholy perhaps, even disappointment. But it was a machine, albeit a very sophisticated one, and it simply moved on to the next target.
And it hoped, as much as it could do such a thing, that it found more in the next system…even the enemy homeworld. It was at least possible. It told itself that again, trying to overcome the numbers standing against it.
It paused, for just a moment, considering the situation, trying to evaluate the chances that the next system would in fact be the one. Then it began the steps to prepare the ship to jump, to find out for sure what lay beyond the point.
Chapter Three
Notes from Max Harmon
I am old, and yet I can live another twenty years, perhaps even twenty-five. My body has changed, both to my own view and to that of people who look at me. To others, it is my hair—still full, but totally gray, almost white, for many years now—as well as several other features, that look the most different. Though to me, I can see much more. I am “well-preserved,” by any stretch of the imagination, better than I’d have expected at the age of one hundred three. But in other ways, things not seen by those who watch, I am old, very old, and I wonder if I will truly live to one twenty-five or one thirty. I have endured much, and while most of those outside see my position as one I would have craved, I can still recall my younger self, and I know that, back then, when I first took the reins of government to myself, I didn’t want them. I did it only because I felt I had to.
I have become so dedicated to defeating the Second Regent, to guaranteeing a home for my people, I have let everything else slip away. I have put my wife in second place, designated my children—and now grandchildren—to a position that, while we both pretend it is otherwise, is far off. My aides, the military and others who work around me, have gradually gone from the Pilgrims, those who were with me on the initial journey, to their children, and recently, their grandchildren. I know it
isn’t entirely true, not quite at least, but I feel almost alone, surrounded by younger people who struggle with their own views, often very different from mine. The effort to hold off the enemy—the real enemy—remains important, to most at least, but the younger groups are also focused on competing with each other, struggling against differing tides, against widely separate views.
There are three main groups in our culture—regular humans, Tanks, and Mules. Each of these occupies a space in our society. The Tanks form up most of the Marines, and in recent years, have moved into a fair percentage of the billets in the navy, as well. The regular humans fill a small contingent of Marines, and still hold the primary control over the fleet. For now.
Then there are the Mules. I have become great friends with Achilles…and yet I wonder where that will lead. The Mules are unquestionably superior to regular humans. I see this clearly, even if many others do not. It is hard to imagine a situation where they continue to occupy only their positions…certainly beyond the fight with the Regent. But they have weaknesses, too, things they do not fully account for, despite their intellectual abilities. Most importantly, they have still been unable to reproduce naturally, and the supply of ancient matter used to create them is sorely lacking. Perhaps we will be able to produce another five thousand of them, even ten thousand…but the total will not go any farther than that, not unless they discover a reproduction method or find more genetic material. There has been almost no progress on either of those fronts, despite what I can only assume have been even greater effort than I know of on the part of the Mules.