by Jack Colrain
“You’re thinking they’ve set up an ambush somewhere?” Palmer asked.
“Isn’t that just what you or I would do?”
“Yeah, but... I dunno. I just have this creepy-ass feeling at the back of my neck that something else is going to go down.”
“The other shoe,” Daniel said.
“Pretty much.”
They advanced, two by two, along a lightning-filled shaft. Daniel hoped the presence of energy meant it connected up to a power source or control section somewhere, but he knew that hope was all he had. The thought made him pause, and the hesitation saved his life as a larger defense drone, kept aloft by spinning blades round its axis, shot out in front of him.
Bailey snapped off a shot at it—or tried to. “Shit! The railguns don’t work.”
“What?” Daniel checked his railgun and found that Bailey was right. He wished he could be more surprised, but it was inevitable that the Mozari would be able to disable their own technology. “Sidearms,” he ordered, and the squad shouldered the railguns and locked and loaded their M27s.
A swarm of the blade-belted drones rode the lightning down towards them, and Daniel, for once in his life, sprayed and prayed. Several of the drones shattered and fell. At least they weren’t bulletproof. Daniel figured the Mozari might be able to jam the railgun magnets, but not the chemical reactions in regular shells.
They pushed on, opening fire on anything that moved. Anything that was bulletproof seemed to be vulnerable to some form of nanotechnology.
Evans pulled Daniel into a T-junction that the team had just reached and used a nano-mine to seal the passageway they had just come through before the ovoids could follow.
“You know what I don’t get, L-T?”
“Probably, but shoot anyway.”
“Why did they let us get here?”
Daniel wondered if he should be flattered that anyone thought he might have an insight on that matter. “I’ve been wondering that, as well. We probably all have.”
“They gave us the railguns, and the Library, and the Exo-suits. They gave us all this nanotechnology, and then, when we used it to get here, they didn’t stop us. They resisted us once we got on board, but they didn’t do anything to stop us getting in, when that surely would have been a lot easier for them.” That had been of concern to Daniel, and he didn't like the thoughts it inspired.
“That’s a point,” Daniel agreed. “They’ve sent out these defense drones, but they’ve been vulnerable to the weapons they gave us. Why not send out defenders that aren’t vulnerable to those? Or give us weapons that can’t hurt them and their defenders? There's only really a couple of possible answers.”
“Sounds like they’re pretty damn stupid for alien invaders.”
“No.”
“What do you mean no?”
“They want us to get here. Not too easily, but...” It was the only answer Daniel could see, and it was infuriating. “All this technology is way ahead of us. They crossed the stars to find us, and they’ve maneuvered us into pretty much doing what they told us, even though they introduced themselves by killing millions in an unprovoked attack,” he went on angrily. “Everything they’ve done, they’ve done for a reason, done to a plan. Whatever it is, it can’t be a stupid plan. Just fucking patronizing and selfish, I bet.”
They were about to move off when Evans spotted something. “Hold! L-T, check that out.”
It was almost invisible, sunk flush into the wall, but it was recognizable. “It’s a Library Cube,” Daniel confirmed. “Evans, query the Librarian about the ship’s layout. See if it matches our cube’s data, and find us a power source and a command center: bridge, flight deck, C-In-C, whatever the Mozari call it.”
“On it.” She touched a hand to the cube. Daniel gave her thirty seconds, then pulled her away. “Got it, L-T.”
“Let’s go. They moved out at the double, led first one way and then another by Evans. There was more gunfire from passageways in several directions, and the occasional whisper-thud of railguns. Then, Daniel turned a corner and came face to face with a blank gray wall.
“That’s the door,” Evans confirmed needlessly. At once, three larger, triple-finned shark-like drones burst from hidden vents to either side of them. The team opened fire with M27s, but these larger drones weren’t affected by mere 5.56mm rounds. “Railguns!” Kinsella yelled as one of the drones flipped around to face her. It suddenly started spinning, and darted forwards.
Bailey aimed for it with his railgun, but nothing happened. “They’re still jammed,” he shouted. Palmer hurled a construction nano-block onto it an instant before it could dice Kinsella and they watched it be consumed, before slowly rebuilding itself into a strange sculpture. Kinsella ducked behind it, and it clearly offered good cover. Daniel and Evans leapt forward, joining her there.
“Get that door open!” Daniel snapped, surprised at himself for feeling calmer than he probably sounded.
“No problem,” Henshaw said, attaching a nano-charge to the smooth surface. “Stand clear. Fire in the hole!” He tapped the control on his tablet, and the nano-charge dissolved and sank into the surface. And then the coating of nanites returned to focus, momentarily sheeting the door in nanite soot before they fell away, as inert as fine sand. The door remained stolidly closed. “Shit.”
“Thanks for reminding them that they have things that the stuff they gave us won’t bloody work against.” Two more bulletproof drones opened fire on the improvised statuary.
“Evans, you’re up. Find a way to open that door.”
She nodded and squatted down, feeling along the base of the door. As she did, mist came off of her hand and flowed under the microscopic gap between it and the floor. A moment later, the door blurred, the matter making it up flowing away from the center like ripples on a pond’s surface. Beyond it was a simple gray room with a huge wrap-around viewport, and a platform ringed by smooth gray obelisks.
It took a moment for Daniel to realize that the sound of shooting had stopped, and he turned around. The drones hovering in the corridor had stopped moving, though their lights remained active. The sound that replaced the firefight was the clicks and clacks of the squad’s weapons being reloaded.
“They’ve stopped. Evans, was that you?”
“I don’t think so, L-T. I only worked on the door system. Maybe they don’t want to risk a stray shot hitting something important in there.”
“Good thought,” Daniel said. “Collins, Gerrard, train your weapons on whatever those things in there are. One move from the drones, you hit the controls—if that’s what they are—with grenades.”
“Are you ever going to come in?” a new voice asked. It was female, melodic, and sounded as if it was coming from both a regular voice and their comms. “It’s quite safe.”
Daniel indicated to the others to stay put and watch the drones, and then he raised his weapon and cautiously entered the room, keeping low and looking along the weapon’s sights in case he needed to defend himself in a hurry. He noticed a control button to one side of the door and realized Evans’ nanites had gotten in and either simply activated it or gotten into the workings to the same effect somehow. As he stepped in, a figure coalesced out of the shadows between the gray obelisks, and it stepped forward.
It was a woman, apparently wearing a simple, bluish-white robe, but somehow not quite really there. The shadows on her face were not cast by the flickering lighting around them, but made it look as if she’d been properly lit by a professional photographer for a shoot, no matter which way she turned. She was also slightly transparent, though this was only really noticeable when she passed in front of a light source.
She smiled beneficently and spread her hands in welcome. “It’s about time, Daniel,” she said. “Where the hell have you been?”
Thirty-Three
Lunar Orbit.
Daniel froze momentarily, utterly taken aback by what he was seeing. He had expected to see a live Mozari, not this ghostly woman. “Are you a prisoner?”
“No. Have you ever seen a transparent prisoner?” Daniel reached out to touch her, and started as his hand passed clean through her. “Well, duh,” she added. “If I was a prisoner, they wouldn’t have much luck trying to torture me for information, would they? Oh, and obviously, neither will you, if you’re thinking of that. It’s not like you can waterboard something you can’t actually touch.”
“Some kind of projection or hologram...” Daniel deduced. He looked around for anyone or anything that might be in control of such a projection, sure that there had to be a Mozari around somewhere
“Either that or a ghost,” Kinsella said. “In which case I pity the poor bastard who she haunts.”
Daniel rubbed at his temple, wondering how much of what he was seeing was even real. He remembered the sensation of being unprotected in space all too well, and he had felt enough ghosts in his time, when he closed his eyes and thought of Elizabeth. “I’m sticking with a hologram.”
“You know, actually, it’s a little more complicated than that,” the form said, “but if the word fits... You can call me that. I’m not offended.”
Daniel gave up trying to avoid her gaze. “So, are you a recording of an actual person, or—”
“I’m the interface of this vessel’s stochastic central processing system.”
“An AI!” Bailey exclaimed. “Cool.” Daniel’s spirits perked up. If it was an AI, it was a control system, which meant it was a goal.
And the AI was, to Daniel’s amazement, still needling Bailey. “Artificial? OK, that offends me. My intelligence is as real as yours. Also, mine’s bigger. I don’t like to boast, but I suppose it’s kind of unavoidable in this situation.”
Bailey stepped back. “What?”
“I mean, I was really hoping they’d send Michio Kaku or Brian Cox or somebody like that. So bummed that I missed Hawking by a couple of years, but we’ll always have Twitter.”
“WHAT?” Daniel forced himself to keep calm. He still needed this... whatever it really was. Hope was still in danger, the Earth was still in danger, and he still needed to shut down the attack, and this damned thing was making a mistake by getting in his way. “Where are the crew?”
“Crew?”
“The Mozari who control this ship.”
The AI looked surprised. “There are no Mozari.”
“You mean the ship is fully automated? Just you running it?”
“That, too.”
“What about the other ships attacking Earth?” Daniel demanded urgently, “Are they automated, too?”
“Almost certainly; they are assault recon drones.”
“So no Mozari there, either,” Daniel muttered, trying to think.
The AI interface beamed. “Ooh, you’re quick, aren’t you? Compared to these others. Yes, that’s what I’m saying. The Mozari species no longer exists.”
Daniel looked at his team, but he saw no more understanding there. “Then, who is having the drones attack Earth? Other AI? Are you all carrying out an invasion planned and programmed by a long-dead race?”
“No. Your planet is being attacked by the Gresians.”
“Gresians? I thought Gresian meant—” Daniel broke off, feeling like the most stupid man who’d ever lived. “I thought it was a word. I asked the Librarian what Gresian meant, and I was shown death and destruction...”
“That’s what they do, silly.” The AI sighed dramatically. “The Gresians are an aggressive species hostile to the Mozari. And, now, hostile to humanity.”
Daniel balled a fist. “And you couldn’t just warn us?”
“I initiated a countdown transmission to their most likely schedule of becoming aware of human society, and introduced means and motivation to develop quickly enough to conduct effect combat operations against them. Oh, is that military-enough terminology for you? I’ve never really been that interested in jargon, except when it’s needed for professional practices, if you see what I mean.”
Now Daniel understood, but couldn’t believe. “So, you trained us to fight your dirty wars for you?” He almost exploded; he had millions of ghosts to avenge on humanity’s behalf, but suddenly his arms and his tongue had no strength left for that. He needed to save it for preventing more deaths.
“It’s not that crazy an idea, L-T,” Evans pointed out before the form could answer. “We trained the Montaigne Hill tribes to fight with us in Vietnam, the British spent a couple of hundred years recruiting the likes of the Gurkhas from Nepal to fight for them, and the Romans used to train up men from one province of the empire and send them to be soldiers in another.”
“So, why are they attacking now? It’s at least three months early. Did you lure them or…”
“Oh, please. I wouldn’t talk to those beasts. More likely, there was a patrol nearby that detected the signature of Mozari technology, if you experimented with it without taking proper precautions, and came to see what was going on.”
“So, this isn’t actually an invasion?”
“Of course not! There are only eight or so drone scouts. An invasion fleet would have a hundred, and actual living Gresians, as well.”
“There aren’t even any of them aboard those ships?”
“Not likely, though there may be a command vessel nearby. I can look if you like.”
“Do that!” A surge of anger and near panic gave him new strength. “Do it, find it, kill it...”
She closed her eyes for a moment, then smiled in relief. “No, I sense no crewed Gresian vessels within my scan range, and the network linking this group is purely automated.”
Daniel started pacing. “Let’s take some defensive precautions.” He still couldn’t feel or hear from Hope, and now that the shooting was over, couldn’t help worrying about both her and everyone else on Earth. It was too much strain to keep on one pair of shoulders for long “Defensive adaptation sounds good as a first instance,” he said at last. “Activate... shields? I assume you have some kind of shields, defensive—”
The AI nodded, momentarily becoming a little more human-looking. “Magneto-deflection fields are active and at full power. The ship would not have survived long on its journey without them.”
“Does this ship have weapons?” Daniel asked. Keeping busy would keep him calm, and right now, calm sounded good.
“Define what sort of weapons you’d like.”
“Not redirected asteroids,” he told the AI. “Missiles, particle beams, railguns, fucking laser guns... Anything that can be used to intercept those ships.”
“The armory bay nano-systems are capable of manufacturing any kind of missile or projectile weapon required, excepting self-powered and railgun-launched. Particle beam weapons are available. Fucking laser guns are not available at this time, and would be of insufficient power to cause the Gresian ships damage if they were.”
Daniel stared. “Do you have to be so literal?”
“Yes.” She seemed surprised that he had asked the question. “Oh! They’ve noticed us. All but a few ground attack drones are ascending at escape velocity, on intercept courses.”
“Doesn’t this thing have any—I dunno, photon torpedoes or equivalents?” Anything that would get this done quickly, and decisively.
The AI pursed her lips in thought, touching her fingertips to them, then snapped her fingers with a smile. “Antiproton plasma bolts engaged.”
“We also need to save the Earth from this attack, so let’s figure out—” He trailed off. ‘How to save Hope,’ he’d almost said.
“Orders accepted.” As she’d spoken, the floor had begun vibrating, something rumbling deep in the lower workings of the Mozari ship. “Drive systems engaged. We are now moving into position to intercept the Gresian drones.” There was a pause. “Drone countermeasures engaged. Antiproton plasma bolts launching.”
“Will that do the job?” Evans asked.
“The Gresian drones are unlikely to be capable of penetrating our defenses, and certainly not of surviving the plasma bolt impacts.” An i
mage appeared, curving around the gray obelisks. Missiles were streaking away from the ship towards the approaching Gresian ships. Brief, bright flashes began to flare up and die where they converged. “All targets eliminated. No further Gresian activity detected.”
Daniel looked around the room. In the image projected over the obelisks, the Earth was alone again, and still beautiful. Everything was so silent, it was impossible to believe a battle was raging, or had just finished. His stomach trembled, his fingers quivering. “Are... Was that it?”
“Yes.”
He leaned against one of the obelisks and slid down into a seated position, his heart fluttering. The other Hardcases did likewise. Daniel held his head in his hands for a while, until he felt able to talk again.
“Why are there no Mozari, and just you?”
“Twenty-three hundred of your years ago, the last Mozari died, victims of a targeted virus specifically engineered by the Gresians to eliminate the Mozari species. All that remains of the Mozari empire are a limited number of starships under the operation of autonomous central systems such as myself.” She paused. “Yes, it’s a lonely... well, it’s not really life, but you know what I mean.”
Daniel was almost lost for words. “If all this happened two and a half thousand years ago, what brought you to Earth? And why bombard its cities, killing millions?”
“The final command I was given was: ‘Defeat the enemy by whatever means deemed necessary.’ Your species appears to have the aptitude to be that means. But, look on the bright side; by boarding this ship, quite effectively clearing though its defenses, and demonstrating use of the nanotechnology to an acceptable level—and, I have to say, quite impressing and reassuring me—you’ve done it! You guys are the very first species to successfully complete the first training program.”
“Well, bully for us,” Beswick muttered.
“I’d celebrate if I knew how to.” She shrugged, and added, “No physical form, no alcohol, no dancing... life’s a riot.”
Daniel’s skin turned to gooseflesh; there was something very unnerving about the AI’s interface. “Did the Mozari talk like you do?”