Awakening Threat

by Patrick G Cox

  “In all normal circumstances, you are correct, Wolf.” The Admiral’s face was severe. “However, it appears we have no choice here.” He paused. “Several of the larger ships we thought we’d destroyed are no longer where we left them, and those that are have swarms of what appear to be eggs around them.”

  Martin nodded. “Or seeds. The DNA has features that are not animal, but could be vegetable. Perhaps the fire causes them to shed seeds.” He pondered this. “That could be it,” he said. “There are plants on earth whose seeds require burning to germinate.”

  The Admiral nodded. “Yes, I suppose that could be, but what would they grow in? As far as we know, there is nothing in space such a creature could attach to.” A different thought occurred to him. “Could that explain this?” He showed Martin the peculiar life signs recorded in the Trojan ships.

  Martin studied it, a frown wrinkling his brow. “It could, if you’re looking at some sort of plant growing inside the ship, perhaps even two different kinds of plants.” He leaned back. “If I remember correctly, the Canid Provider that Harry speaks of—is that not an organic entity? Could this be related in some way?”

  Captain Kretzmann gave a low whistle. “If that is the case, we’ll need to be very careful. If what you are saying is true, could this Provider be the origin of the Niburu? We could wind up killing the Canids’ Provider if we let this stuff loose.”

  “The Captain is right,” said Martin. “There is a great risk of that.” He gathered his tablet and slid the Admiral’s back to him. “There is much more work to be done before I can give you answers.”

  Admiral Heron glanced round the conference table at his commanding officers. “I’m sure I don’t have to remind you the subject of this briefing is not for discussion outside of this room—and at this stage, not even with your officers.” Admiral Heron paused to let the murmur of concern die down. “We know the Siddhiche monitor our discussions, though we don’t know how. We are deliberately trying to draw them out, as we are convinced there is something they have not told us about the Niburu, and it could be vital to our future actions. In the meantime, I will keep you up to date as and when we learn anything further.”

  “The Siddhiche are demanding a hell of a lot of us. Distributing infective agents is a really bad idea. What if it mutates and infects us?”

  “You’re right, Captain Haukohl. This is why we are holding back. The only thing I can say is that the scientists tell me it is a sort of organic weed killer in a sense. It has no apparent effect on animals of any species we’ve encountered, including the Canids and the Lacertians. Our major concern is that it might affect the Canid’s Provider, but the Siddhiche say it won’t.” The Admiral looked at the expressions on the faces of his senior Commanders gathered on the flagship. “It goes against the grain, I can tell you.”

  “Talking of the Siddhiche, they seem to be very active again.”

  “Yes, we’ve picked up several concentrations of their ships, but we don’t know whether they are watching something, waiting for something or guarding something.” The Admiral allowed himself a wry smile. “They’re the most frustrating allies anyone could possibly have.”

  The others laughed, and one of them asked, “If we have to use this stuff, how do we do it?”

  “We’re still working on that. It looks as if we may have to deliver it with missiles or by putting people on it to release it. Neither option is particularly attractive.”

  There was a rumble of agreement.

  The Admiral picked up his briefing. “We’ll have more on that later. Flags has distributed the Fleet dispositions and orders to you. For now, we will maintain our current tactics. Study the orders, and make any suggestions that come to mind. Now, I’ve asked Dr. Borner to brief us on the agent he’s working on.”

  Niamh fumed. She shook the letter at Theo as he entered the living room. “I can’t believe James is allowing this! All three of our boys are now on this corvette of Harry’s. We could lose all of them at once if anything happens to it. WHY CAN’T THEY BE DEPLOYED ON A LARGE SHIP FOR ONCE?” She shouted this last bit, and her husband winced.

  “I’m right here, my dear, I can hear you just fine. Please don’t get so worked up. Your blood pressure is in the healthy range by some small miracle. Let’s keep it that way.”

  “Oh, you!” she fumed. “All of you men can be so maddening at times.”

  Theo let slide the remark that his less than better self would make about how difficult she could be. He knew better than to open that can of worms, especially when she was worked up. He took his usual calm approach.

  “James might not be aware of it, my dear. As Fleet Commander, he has his hands full. He can’t personally oversee every appointment and every posting, you know.”

  “There are only the three of them, Theo. He should be able to see to it they aren’t all put in the same ship at the same time.” Her anger abated a little. “They’re the only family we have between us. Surely it’s not too much to ask he at least keep one of them aboard a starship.”

  “My dear, he explained this to you once before. A ship’s size is irrelevant out there in space. In fact, they are probably safer on one of these corvettes.” He gathered up the scattered letter and sorted the pages into order. “Ah, I see this one is from Danny. Have we had one from Harry?”

  “Yes.” She shuffled through the items on her table. “Here it is, and I shall have a great deal to say to him when I have a chance. His ship required several weeks in repair after his last mission, and he glosses over the cause. I learn from Danny’s letter that it was a secret mission, and Harry and Ferghal were almost trapped by the Niburu—only the arrival of the Fleet saved them.”

  Theo understood the deep-seated worry and fear beneath Niamh’s anger. He felt it too sometimes.

  “My dear, they are growing up and have found a niche in our society. Harry is a Commander now, and a good one from what I hear. He’ll take good care of the other two, and they of him I should think.”

  “I know you’re right, but it doesn’t make it any easier. James once described Harry as sixteen going on sixty. He was right, but I can also see it the other way. Sometimes he is the little twelve-year-old who joined the Royal Navy as a Midshipman and was suddenly expected to be a man fighting off corsairs on the voyage to Australia that he talks of frequently when he lets down his guard.”

  Theo nodded. “You’re right, my dear, but he’s also a very shrewd man. Did you see the interview with Alisdair Montaigne the other day? From what Montaigne was saying, after he met Harry, he had to completely revise his opinion of him. To hear him admit it was quite something.” He chuckled. “It obviously took the wind completely out of the interviewer’s sails, and I’m sure the audience were disappointed that they didn’t get their daily dose of gossip.”

  The reconnaissance mission to investigate and record what was happening around a damaged Niburu ship gave Harry a chance to exercise his flotilla.

  “Dropout achieved, sir,” said the Coxswain. “Everyone on station.”

  Harry nodded. “Thank you, Swain.”

  From his command chair, Harry watched the three-dimensional display. With 847 at the centre of a formation that fanned out on all sides, they could scan and record the widest possible area. He glanced across to where Danny had ‘the con’—the naval term that still meant someone controlling the course, speed and station keeping of the ship through the watch. Danny had come a long way from being the frightened and half-starved urchin dragged aboard HMS Spartan by an “uncle” and forced into the backbreaking labour of keeping the guns supplied with powder cartridges. Harry felt a glow of pride. The boy had certainly grown and proved himself, and was a fine musician and a capable officer.

  “Contact, sir.” The ScanRate’s voice was calm. “Dead ahead at extreme range.” He adjusted his instruments. “It’s one of ’em, sir. Shows as dead, but there’s a lot of clutter around her, and that shows as live, sort of like lifepods.”

  “Admiral,
Dr. Borner has found the key.” Captain Kretzmann tried to keep his tone neutral. “Shall I send him across to brief you, sir?”

  “I’ll send my barge. Hopefully he’ll have the answers to some of the questions I need resolved.”

  “I think you’ll find that he will, and he has a couple of surprises in the pack as well. I’ll have him ready when the barge arrives, sir.”

  “Good. I think you should attend as well. I’ll get Flags to send out an All Captains request so he can brief everyone at the same time.”

  “I’ll be ready, sir, but we can use my launch.”

  “No, better wait for the barge, Wolf.” The Admiral hesitated, a smile forming. “Besides, it’s more comfortable than your launch.”

  The link disconnected, and Wolf Kretzmann turned to Martin. “Well, the boss obviously has his reasons, so we travel in luxury, it seems.”

  Martin laughed. “Perhaps he wishes to make sure I cannot escape.” His expression changed. “I’ve been wondering about something. Why are we surrounded by so many frigates and fighters?”

  “Ah, so you noticed.” Wolf frowned. “The Admiral is playing very safe. We’re probably the best-protected ship in the Fleet. There are very few people who know what you fellows know, and as we can’t get you to somewhere we can be absolutely certain won’t be attacked by the Niburu or some other enemy agency, we have to keep you here where we can provide the tightest possible security.” He paused. “You scientists are our best hope. Admiral Heron and the command staff agree that we can’t take any chances.”

  Harry studied the scan data directly through the AI. At this distance, the debris around the dead hulk seemed to be several small ovoids, but they were not quite egg-shaped. He became aware of a new movement among them even as the ScanRate called out, “Ship dropping out, sir.”

  “Thank you. Plot and track it. Can you identify him?”

  “Negative, sir. Transponder isn’t functioning properly. The life signature looks like a Trojan, but it’s not like the others.”

  “Record it.” He glanced at the ComsRate. “Get me the others on voice link.”

  “On link, sir.”

  “Are you all recording the newcomer?” He listened to the affirmations. “He looks as if—”

  “Another one, sir—no, two,” said the ScanRate.

  “Do you have them? Good, we are ordered not to attack first.” Harry watched the display. “Eight Four One, Eight Four Six, swing wide and try to get some imaging from either beam, please.”

  “Looks like they’re collecting those pods.” Kallie’s voice cut into the link. “And there’s one of those mother ships just rising on the western edge of the planet.”

  “I have him. Take care, Eight Four One. Try to scan one of those pods. I think we need to know exactly what they are.”

  “Another of the mother ships just came on the scan, sir.”

  “Time to go then.” Harry checked the positions of his corvettes. “Close up on me please. Reverse course and transit on my mark.”

  Admiral James Heron leaned back in his chair. “So you’re suggesting that the Niburu is an entity capable of taking over a ship once it has been prepared as a host, and then it adapts the ship to its needs.”

  Martin glanced at his colleagues. “That is correct, Admiral.”

  “It isn’t the barnacles?”

  “No. They are the agent that prepares the host by altering its molecular structure and adapting the operating systems.” Martin examined his notes in his tablet. “The ship, once it is adapted, is invaded by something else. That is the DNA the Siddhiche have supplied, and that is the organism to be targeted by the agent they wish us to create.”

  One of the senior Captains leaned his elbows on the conference table. “Damned if I like the sound of this at all, sir. Why the blazes can’t the Siddhiche do this themselves?”

  The Admiral straightened, a frown forming. “That’s a good question, but I suspect we aren’t going to get a straight answer to it.” He turned to Martin. “This agent they want you to create: what does it do, and how can it be delivered?”

  Martin hesitated. “Technically it’s a virus. We can generate it easily enough.” He grinned as he glanced around the table. “It’s close to one found almost everywhere on Earth and probably in everyone here. Delivering it is the tricky bit. We need to get it into the ships themselves, but it’s susceptible to heat, it won’t take kindly to being exposed to space, and the only things we’ve got so far that can deliver it are missiles, mines and a few other weapons that are all unsuitable.”

  “Yes, I can see that.”

  Captain Curran spoke up. “Is there a way we could use some of the nanotech to deliver it?”

  “Ben, that sounds as if it could be worth looking at.” The Admiral looked at Martin. “Could your agent be sealed into something that could be programmed to attach itself to an infected ship and inject this virus?”

  Martin nodded. “It could, but at present we have no idea of how much is needed, or how long it takes to act. We’ll only know for certain once we’ve successfully infected one.”

  Chapter 34

  Collision of Cultures

  Wolf Kretzmann deliberately kept his voice neutral as he addressed Admiral Heron via a holo-link. “Admiral, I have Dr. Palmer wanting to meet you, sir. His team think they’ve finally begun to crack the inscriptions we got on Kepler-4 and that alien derelict.”

  “I see. Very well, Wolf. I’ll send my barge to collect him at fifteen-thirty SST. Any idea as to what he’s got in mind?”

  “I have some of it, sir. It’s not much. Just that the graffiti from the alien ship appears to suggest the crew found themselves infected by an agent that the Niburu attached to the ship.” He paused. “Sounds exactly like the barnacles, but there’s a bit more. He’ll no doubt want to tell you himself.”

  “Very good. I’d appreciate your accompanying him, please.” The Admiral allowed a flash of his feelings to show. “I have not forgotten his behaviour toward Harry, or Palmer’s association with the LPSL.” He grinned suddenly. “Come to think of it, I’ll make sure Flags and the Flag Captain are also present.”

  The Admiral ended the connection, and Captain Kretzmann leaned back in his chair to think. He touched his comlink. “Dr. Palmer, please.” There was a momentary pause. “Dr. Palmer, the Admiral will send his barge to fetch us. Please be ready at the Hangar Bay at fifteen-fifteen. We’ll leave the moment it arrives.”

  The Commander waited till he had everyone’s attention. “Right, then, we have a new task. That hulk we surveyed and watched while the Trojans and their escort collected the pods it shed has been moved. We’re going after another, this time with a new weapon. It’s a nasty one, but the scientists say it’s the only way.”

  “Can’t get much nastier than those incendiary missiles,” Kallie remarked.

  “Believe me, it can.” The Commander arched an eyebrow for emphasis. “But in this instance, I think it’s a case of using their own poison against them.” He consulted his tablet. “It’s a sort of viral agent, I think, at least that’s the way the scientists tell it. It has been genetically engineered to match the Niburu DNA code. The problem is getting it into them. That’s where we come in. We have to get in close, get missiles to penetrate into the damned ship then get out.”

  “What about the pods they shed when we shoot them up? How do we deal with those?”

  “Glad you asked. We’ll have an escort of strike fighters carrying a modified mine system that will scatter bomblets programmed to attach to themselves to the pods. If they’re pulled into a ship with elevated atmospheric oxygen, which we think the recovery ships have, they’ll activate and start the virus spreading there as well.”

  “This germ warfare sounds damned creepy to me,” commented a junior officer, “and it’s not an honourable way to fight.”

  “You’re right, it isn’t, but apparently, it’s our only option.” The Commander’s distaste showed. “I can tell you there’s been a lot
of soul searching over this, and there are a lot of unknowns about it as well, but we’ve got to stop them—permanently.” He paused. “Some of you have seen the worlds they hit when we managed to recapture one or two. Now they’re pushing in again, getting closer to Earth, and we need to take that very seriously.”

  “Have we any proof our signals are compromised, sir?” asked the Lieutenant in command of one of the 37th’s corvettes.

  “It certainly looks that way. We know a number of ships have been intercepted after orders were transmitted on secure channels, and their routing and tasks were clearly known in advance by the enemy. Command think the Niburu must have captured ships or operators who have been persuaded to operate our systems so they can read our signals and interfere with our transmissions.” He gestured toward Harry. “The force that chased Harry’s ship was using our hypercoms system, and it was attempting to contact our ships when it was intercepted.” He hesitated. “The AI logs indicate attempts were made to corrupt or access the AIs on several ships, including Eight Four Seven. Fortunately, Harry told his AI to refuse the contact, and she told the others. I hate to think what would have happened if the enemy had succeeded.”

  Dr. Palmer stood before Admiral Heron to present his research reports. “Admiral, we’ve deciphered the graffiti on the alien ship found at Galapagos. It is a warning from the survivors of an attack by a race they call the Noma or Damon.” Dr. Palmer fidgeted with his tablet. “Here is the full text. It appears, from the description of the device attached to the hull in this inscription, that the Niburu attacked them.”

  Admiral Heron studied the text, his expression unreadable. “I see.” He set his tablet down and steepled his fingers. “That would seem to be confirmed by other evidence. Is there anything else in these inscriptions that we need to know about?”

  Dr. Palmer shifted uncomfortably. “Yes…yes, there is. We have learned a great deal about the race that was attacked.” He hesitated. “They called themselves the Ares. One unfinished text we found—again, it appeared to be graffiti—describes the creatures that attacked us on Galapagos very accurately, and speaks of their enslaving and removing all large animals and the dominant and intelligent species.” He swallowed. “The Noma, as it refers to them, are rather rapacious predators according to this.”