Helium 3: Fight for the Future

by Brandon Q. Morris

  Grisok looked at her, and at first he shook his head grumpily, but then he recognized the visitor and signaled with his wing for her to enter. “I don’t encounter Navigators here very often,” he said.

  What a strange greeting! “Maybe more often in the future,” Kimikizu replied. She surprised herself with her own courage.

  But the old man didn’t comment. Instead he said, “I heard what you think about the gravimetric measurements.”

  “Yes, Norok told you, I know.”

  “Ah, my apologies. I was already in the cockpit for that reason. I’d forgotten. That’s what happens with age!”

  “You don’t look that old yet.”

  He was visibly pleased with the compliment and then raised his beak a little higher. “In any case,” he stated, “I looked at the data from the radio telescope again. Perhaps you’d be interested.”

  Of course it interested her. She’d been hoping that Grisok had discovered something else. It rankled her that the Supreme Navigator hadn’t wanted to accept her theory.

  “I’m anxious to know,” she said.

  “I think I can distinguish several speakers,” said Grisok.

  “What do you mean? Can you understand the messages?”

  “No, not a bit. But just as every Iks has a slightly different, characteristic voice, this also seems to apply to the foreign messages. But most importantly, these voices are having conversations, meaning they take turns. If it were a physical phenomenon, such as distant comets emitting electromagnetic radiation for some reason, they wouldn’t be holding conversations!”

  “Certainly not,” said Kimikizu. “Though that’s still not enough evidence that there are foreign intelligent life forms on the way.”

  “Right. For that, we’d need to decipher the messages.”

  “Or meet with such a ship. But perhaps by then it would be too late.”

  “But why should they be ill-tempered toward us?”

  Kimikizu was struck by how Grisok’s age showed in the way he spoke. And it was clear how naive his thinking still was, Keeper or not.

  “We’ve come here in a spaceship that’s bigger than any of the asteroids in the system. We threw the innermost planet out of its orbit. This couldn’t have escaped their attention! All the same, they haven’t contacted us. Why would they be hiding if they wanted to be friendly with us?”

  The Keeper rocked his upper body back and forth. Kimikizu saw that he was thinking.

  “Perhaps they’re afraid of us. We were ruthless enough to tear an entire planet off its foundation.”

  “Apparently they can create wormholes, Grisok. I don’t think we can hold a candle to them technologically. If they are just deliberately ignoring us, for us the most hopeful explanation is that we are not important to them. Otherwise we must count on them attacking us sooner or later.”

  Kimikizu was startled by the sound of an alarm. Had things reached this point already? She turned abruptly and ran toward the cockpit, but she didn’t make it. Halfway there, an invisible force hurled her against the wall. Was this the end already? Her mask was still under her seat in the cockpit. If there were a breach in the hull now, she would die. How could she have been so careless?

  “Sorry,” a voice announced over the audio panels hidden in the walls. “We just had to dodge an asteroid. I hope everyone made it through the maneuver all right.”

  Kimikizu was both relieved and angry. She was going to live. But if it had been necessary for the flying machine to perform such a tricky maneuver, someone hadn’t been paying that much attention. Routine led to carelessness. Just because the chances of a collision were low didn’t mean that the pilot could sleep on the job. Hopefully, Norok would give him a piece of his mind.

  The Supreme Explorer was standing next to her neighbor’s seat as she entered the cockpit. She had never seen Norok this angry. He looked as if he was about to attack the pilot, and now her heart went out to him. After all, he had reacted just in time. She squeezed her way past them and put her wing around Norok’s shoulders soothingly, astounded by her own audacity. The Supreme Explorer let it go. She took her place back on the guest seat.

  “Please remember what an honor it is to be in this ship, and what a responsibility,” said Norok calmly. “The survival of an entire race depends on what we do. Tomorrow we’ll finally reach the gas giant that we have such great hopes for. I want for us to make a quick and tidy job of it and to provide the generation ship with the information it needs.”

  The cockpit fell silent.

  After a while, Kimikizu broke the silence. “I wonder if we should add weapons to the sensors in the nosecone.”

  “But we’ve gone over this already,” replied Norok. “There is currently no evidence that we’re facing any danger. If we remove the sensors, we’ll need twice as much time to do our job. We can’t do that to the other Iks. They’ve been waiting so long to have a home again.”

  Then they could very well wait one more day, Kimikizu thought. But she said nothing. She knew that such a thought could only be spoken to the Supreme Explorer when they were alone. Otherwise he would lose face.

  Revolt

  The Solstice Bud and the Unity Alone Ensures Victory broke away from the net fleet. At top speed they raced toward the reconnaissance ship, which was only a few light-seconds away. What might give the impression of a friendly reception was something entirely different—the beginning of an uprising like nothing the net fleet had ever before seen in its long history.

  Uprisings, revolutions, and coups had not been all that unusual on Mendrakia. However, the knowledge that the remaining Mendraki needed to stick together had more recently deterred combat as a means of conflict resolution. Of course there had occasionally been confrontations, strife, and even violent threats, and indeed there had been armed clashes between individual Mendraki networks, but there had never been an outbreak of open force between the ships in the net fleet—until now. Tolkut hoped it would stay that way.

  The outcome of the next micropulse would determine the future of the net fleet, and despite all the planning, this outcome remained uncertain. Tolkut and his fellow conspirators could rely on the crews of seven out of twenty ships. At first glance, this did not seem to be enough to depose Kasfok, but the Netmaster only had six to eight Shipmasters who were in league with him.

  The remaining third of the net fleet didn’t belong to either of the two camps. The Shipmasters of these units did not have particularly close contact with Kasfok’s or Tolkut’s group, nor were they united with each other. The crews had descended from webs that were at the bottom of the hierarchy in Mendrakia, ones that had never exerted much influence. The uprising's success would depend largely on whether they could bring these ships and their crews to their side.

  When they were close enough to minimize the delay, Tolkut ordered the radio drummer to establish a connection with the reconnaissance craft.

  Just a few micropulses later, Kasfok himself broadcast a message. Shipmaster Tolkut! Do you want to be my honorary escort?

  Even if Tolkut hadn’t known that the question was intended to be sarcastic, Tolkut’s dance steps of contempt would have eliminated all doubt. Tolkut’s mandibles assumed a neutral position between submission and hostility, and he danced a few decisive steps of defiance that also subtly communicated self-assurance. Then he struck the prepared message onto the thread. Netmaster Kasfok: Shipmaster Munion and I represent many Shipmasters who are of the unanimous opinion that your order to develop an attack on the aliens runs counter to the interests and safety of the net fleet. Given the many unknown factors, such as the aliens’ firepower, their technological capacities, and their intentions in this system, along with the abundant resources available here for both species, such an attack would involve incalculable risks.

  We therefore ask you to withdraw the command and contact the approaching ship first. Only when it becomes irrefutable that the aliens pose a threat to the net fleet, which is unlikely given the small size of th
e ship, should warfare be considered.

  To Tolkut’s astonishment, Kasfok was neither surprised nor angry. He just danced a few steps of scorn.

  You have always lacked foresight, Tolkut, drummed Kasfok, provocatively dispensing with the Shipmaster title. His mandibles protruded menacingly. In terms of the aliens and their intentions, as well as yours toward me, I advise you to desist and submit immediately. Then I will be generous and look past your insolence!

  Now, because of the Netmaster’s condescending attitude, it was Tolkut who was filled with wrath. He had anticipated that Kasfok wouldn’t accept the way out that was offered, but the Netmaster’s arrogance and calmness—given the obvious threat from the Bud and Unity—still surprised him.

  Tolkut danced the steps of defiance and drummed his ultimatum. If you do not retract the order, we will demand that you resign as Netmaster. If you resist, we will make use of our ships’ weapons!

  Kasfok danced the steps of merriment, followed by sequences of steps for the impending attack. This confused Tolkut. Wasn’t it tradition for the assailant to perform these steps? Kasfok was quick to explain.

  Consider turning your scanners and sensors behind you, traitors! Did you somehow think I would not expect such a betrayal? During the return flight, I contacted my allies over radio relay and gave instructions in the event that just what you’re attempting to do should happen. Kasfok stared straight at the camera with his six eyes and jutted his mandibles forward menacingly.

  Tolkut could tell that the edges were hard and taut, ready to sever the head of each and every enemy.

  If you make the slightest attempt to fight me, my ships will blow those of your fellow conspirators to dust! You can go ahead and kill me, but then you’ll have 40,000 Mendraki on your conscience! It will then be your turn and Munion’s—including your ships’ 20,000-plus crew members.

  The bridge crew of the Bud had been listening in on the exchange, and the remote scout didn’t wait for Tolkut’s orders. Using his sensors, he scanned the space sector in which the net fleet was located. Tolkut could see on the displays that two ships were approaching the Gusty Wind Rends Every Web, the Silken Thread of the Homeland, the Red Skies by the Light of Dawn, and the Balm of the Dense Morning Fog, pointing their deployed weapons at them. Only the Mild Breeze over Endless Forests continued to move at some distance from the other ships on their way around the planet.

  Doskart! Tolkut thought. He betrayed us!

  Moreover, he now knew which Shipmasters Kasfok could rely upon. It appeared he had eight Shipmasters on his side, plus Doskart. Kasfok’s power base was more substantial than Tolkut and his friends had assumed.

  The remaining five ships were holding back with their weapon domes closed and making no moves to take sides, although they were certainly watching the events closely. Two of those ships even fired their landing engines briefly to increase their distance from the impending confrontation.

  Now I’ll tell you my demands, Tolkut! You and Munion will surrender unconditionally. My soldiers will come aboard your ships and take you into custody. My appointees will replace all officers of your ships. I promise they will live, and after a probation period they shall rise in rank again. But Munion and you—you will never have another opportunity to scheme against the rightful Netmaster! By the power vested in me under the martial law of the Mendraki, I condemn both of you—and the Shipmasters who have joined you—to death!

  Even before Tolkut could respond, his command post’s priority thread vibrated with an emergency message. He could see on the main screen that Kasfok was also distracted. A thread message was probably also being transmitted to him at that moment.

  Shipmaster, look! the remote scout drummed.

  It could be seen on the display that Shipmaster Doskart’s Mild Breeze Over Endless Forests was suddenly rushing at top speed toward Kilmek’s Gusty Wind Rends Every Web, which was beside it and threatened by two ships. At first Tolkut thought it would open fire on the Wind, but instead it fired its maser and laser beams at the two units Kasfok had sent out to keep the Wind under surveillance.

  The two ships hadn’t been expecting an attack from the rear and had no chance of escaping. It looked like they would be destroyed within a few micropulses, but then the Breeze desisted and headed for the next two ships allied with the Netmaster. The two badly damaged units sought sanctuary in flight and were thus no longer in the battle. The Wind was suddenly no longer threatened and powered its engines from a standstill up to maximum power, opened its weapon domes, and turned toward two of Kasfok’s allies hovering in space next to the Red Skies.

  Deciding whether to aim their weapons at the Skies, as per Kasfok’s orders, or on the Wind suddenly descending on them, they reacted far too slowly. By the time they finally used their position engines to turn toward the attacker, their hulls had already been struck by its ray guns. Meanwhile, Doskart’s ship was now fighting two more ships that belonged to Kasfok’s allies, which were equally surprised by the unexpected attack and, therefore, also too slow to react.

  Tolkut could see that neither the attackers nor the defenders were using their railguns or nuclear torpedoes. Neither side wanted to destroy the enemy ships, which would have caused countless casualties, but instead to shoot them so they were disabled and no longer battle-worthy, or to force them to retreat.

  The sudden attack also encouraged the three other ships of Tolkut’s allies into action. They opened fire on the ships that were guarding them, and these answered in kind. Although Kasfok had threatened complete extermination, both sides were trying only to shoot the opposition to the point that it was incapable of fighting. The Shipmasters were apparently more scrupulous than Kasfok had assumed.

  The Netmaster had long since cut off the connection to Tolkut’s ship. Tolkut briefly considered simply shooting down the defenseless reconnaissance plane, but he had too many qualms. He feared that, in this scenario, the enemy Shipmasters would lose all their inhibitions, and tens of thousands of fatalities would result. Tolkut saw only one option in the spreading chaos. Before the fight escalated, it had to be ended.

  Radio this message to our friends’ units, he ordered. Desist fighting and retreat. I repeat, terminate hostilities and withdraw to the coordinates that follow. He provided a set of coordinates that would lead the ships from their current orbit around the fifth planet to one of its outer moons. There they could gather their bearings and discuss their next steps.

  The four ally Shipmasters reacted immediately. They abruptly changed course, escaped the enemy fire, and accelerated in the direction of the coordinates provided. Tolkut doubted that Kasfok would follow them with his ships. Now that Kasfok had lost the element of surprise, there was too much of a balance of power to ensure victory for either side. A look at the display showed Tolkut that Doskart’s Mild Breeze Over Endless Forests had received the radio message and was also heading for the meeting point. He was eager to hear what Doskart would have to tell him about his strange behavior, and why he had seemingly become a traitor to his cause.

  Again his thoughts were interrupted by the vibrating thread that connected him to the remote scout.

  Shipmaster, the aliens’ little ship! A cloud of stress hormones accompanied the news.

  Tolkut spun around and looked at another area of the tracking display. The pod was now very close to the fifth planet. It was only a few light-seconds away and was approaching at an astonishing speed. The aliens must have had extremely powerful engines, and Tolkut had to acknowledge once more that they were not as backward as the Mendraki had initially thought.

  But it wasn’t just the surprising proximity of the unknown ship that had prompted the remote scout to send an emergency message—Tolkut could see that Kasfok’s flagship and another unit were rushing toward the unsuspecting runt. It appeared that Kasfok wanted to make use of the chaos to get the deed done. The two ships were clearly on a course of attack. The reconnaissance craft with Kasfok on board was now flying in the same direction. It was p
robably his intention to let his flagship pick him up before Tolkut had the opportunity to change his mind and fire at him.

  Tolkut thought for a moment and did a quick calculation. It was going to be close, but it could still work.

  The others will have to wait a bit until we join them, he drummed on the general thread. Tell Shipmaster Munion that our two ships will come to the aid of the aliens!

  50th of Frien, 298

  They reached the gas giant in the morning hours. Kimikizu was thrilled. This star system had already offered a whole menagerie of celestial bodies, but this planet went one step further. The scanners had found over 80 moons! There were four of them that, with their orbits around the central star, could have passed as planets. And how diverse they were! Kimikizu couldn’t get enough—she had really only expected ice worlds that far out.

  Two of the four large moons fell precisely into that category. Gravitational anomalies indicated that there were even oceans of liquid water beneath the thick crusts of ice. She imagined how they could peck holes and fish for aquatic animals with their beaks. Of course, this was nonsense—nobody had a 10,000-span beak. But it was a nice idea, and maybe there were velvetbills or greenfins swimming in the ocean depths. And if not, there was always the possibility of releasing a few there later.

  The other two large moons looked completely different, as if another mother planet had given birth to them. One had a face that was completely scarred. Kimikizu imagined that it must have traveled alone through space for a long time. It looked three times as old as its siblings. If someone had told her that another species had traveled to this system inside it, she would have found it entirely plausible.

  And then there was the moon of fire. Kimikizu thought it was a magnificent name for a moon, and it was very well-suited to this celestial body, with liquid lava pouring out over its surface and its lakes glowing with sulfur. She wouldn’t have been able to manage without a flight suit, but Kimikizu eagerly anticipated her first visit there. At the moment, she had no interest in the official research program, which planned for a protracted crossing of the various layers of the planet’s atmosphere. It would be tedious due to the enormity of the planet.