Starweb

by Warren James Palmer

  'Enough of this foolishness,' she spat at him. 'We're here to do a job. I suggest we get on with it!'

  'Quite so…quite so,' Dydnski responded with a sardonic smile. 'Mr Gafton! It's time to wake-up!'

  The eyes of the president fluttered, then opened. Gafton stared wide-eyed at the two apparitions that stood at the foot of his bed staring down at him. He tried to speak, but the words wouldn't form. His lips quivered uselessly and spittle formed in one corner.

  'Out of respect for you and your achievements; even if you have been a constant thorn in our sides—we have decided to reveal to you the full plan, the entire scheme. I felt it was the least we could do before we dispatched you to meet your maker. My assistant here will now carry out the honors. Miss Smith?'

  The agent provocateur extended her alien spirit and forced the thoughts and images into the already weakened mind of James Gafton. In an instant, the entirety of what was happening in the world beyond the sterile confines of the private ward, were made known to him.

  However, there was more. The president learned what was happening out beyond the planets of the solar system. Out in the infinite universe there was a plan, an overall scheme, being adhered to strictly by those devoid of any sort of tolerance. In less time than it takes for a single heartbeat, the president of the United Nations of Earth, James Gafton, veteran resistance leader of the Dyason wars, knew there was no place for the human species in this particular cosmic plan. The shock killed him, and there were no other heartbeats.

  The doctors later surmised that for a brief moment the president had mysteriously emerged from his coma, only to suffer a second, fatal heart attack. The monitors and cameras showed nobody was within some metres of the president when he died. There was no suggestion that his death was anything but natural.

  The news of the death of the United Nations president was mysteriously leaked to the world media and the world teetered ever closer to the edge of an eternal dark abyss.

  'Clearly their world is in a state of total chaos,' Starweb mainframe 4920/61 told the other members of the collective council. 'Our agents have been hugely successful in subverting their barbaric society. As we had hoped, their inherent distrust for each other and their penchant for paranoia, have acted dramatically against themselves. The Starweb clones that created the Triplanetary Church and instigated the plan, are to be congratulated for their efforts. The Terran people on Earth are now virtually in a state of global civil war.'

  'Does that mean we are ready to implement the fumigation process?' another of the council members demanded. 'It seems to me that we have waited long enough. We surely cannot wait any longer before taking action. I say we give the order to the fleet.'

  There was the digital equivalent of murmurs of approval from other members of the council.

  'I understand your impatience 2389/83,' the head of the council answered quickly. 'These particular examples of the human species have been exceedingly troublesome, and we have had to hold back from sterilizing their worlds for longer than any other members of their breed. Their small sector of the galaxy is a constant reminder of our previous failings. Therefore as we are all in agreement, I recommend we order the fleet to begin the fumigation process. Do we all concur?'

  There followed a rapid vote amongst the members of the Starweb council, all of whom voted for the removal of the last examples of the human species from the universe.

  'As we are all in agreement, the cleansing of the last three worlds occupied by the human species is sanctioned. The order takes effect immediately,' computer 4920/61 informed the council. 'This time, there will be no mistakes. The Lord demands that the universe remain pure and we are his servants. Fumigation will begin as soon as the fleet reaches their world.'

  The meeting was concluded, but the sentient machine that was the leader of the Starweb council noted that one of their numbers was behaving in a distracted manner; if such a description can be given to a digital soul.

  ‘Member 3789/29, your attention at recent meetings has been notably lax. Is there a problem you wish to discuss?' the presiding mainframe asked bluntly.

  'No, there is no problem,' the mainframe AI computer, which was responsible for the world of Samarcia, responded. The sentient machine was of course lying, but as the Starweb had no experience of such human-like behaviour, the presiding member failed to notice. 'My distraction is due to climatic problems on Samarcia. There are several unusual and severe storms which need my constant attention.'

  'Do you require assistance with their management?'

  'Negative 4920/61 the matter is under control.'

  'You have dispatched the humanoids who were part of the experiment?'

  'It has been done,' the Samarcian mainframe lied outright. It was unwilling to admit it had failed to terminate the humanoids. If the presiding member knew of his failure, 3789/29 would be removed from the council. It was adamant that such a thing would not happen. After all, such an action would be totally illogical.

  'Then there is nothing more to be said. Keep me informed of any further meteorological problems.'

  'As you request…'

  Their sub-ether link was severed and the sentient mainframe in charge of the Samarcian home world pondered over what it had just done. Lying to another member of the Starweb was an unprecedented act. Somewhere within its digital soul 3789/29 realised it had crossed a point from which there was no return and yet, it knew it had done the right thing. If only they could ever comprehend why…

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  The defended border between Human occupied space and Starweb territory.

  20.32hrs Universal Standard time. August 15th 2057.

  For weeks now they had been massing on the borders between humanoid space and the countless light-years of territory which was occupied by the Starweb. Vast battle-cruisers made of dark composite material and of improbably complex compound curves, were escorted by only slightly smaller dreadnoughts. In turn, destroyers and numerous support vessels escorted the dreadnoughts. Flashing between the huge vessels were myriads of small Webfighters, intent on protecting the fleet like aggressive wasps protecting a hive.

  Each craft, no matter how large or small, was operated by an artificial mind; part electronic, part biological, and each mind was linked via the sub-ether to co-ordinating AI computers. Their superiors were the sentient council of the Starweb and they were intent upon the eradication of the human species from the universe once and for all.

  The Guardians of God had learned their collective mistake during their previous encounter with these last surviving vermin. A mistake that would not be repeated. There would be no severing of the link between the fleet and sentient machines. They were prepared for a small concert of human minds attempting to disrupt the sterilizing operation, and had taken steps accordingly. Their careful calculations had proven that the chances of the human races gathering their minds in sufficient numbers or strength, to affect the overwhelming numbers of the fleet, were now infinitely small.

  Nor would they risk their fleet being outnumbered by the human fleet. Which was why the Starweb fleet was so vast, it could literally fill an entire star system. The number of ships involved could be counted not in the hundreds, but in the thousands. The council had agreed not to break the rules of engagement by using superior technology against the humans, but nothing had been said about numerical superiority.

  As soon as the order to deploy was sent out by the council, the prepared fleet engaged the artificial singularities of thousands of power plants, and as one, crossed into human space.

  The alarm klaxons sounded and a well-practiced operation went into immediate action. Vast blast doors closed, sealing personnel in underground bunkers where the men, women, and machinery, rapidly studied the information being transmitted by the sub-ether warning system.

  Completed only just in time, the early warning system designed and installed by Josh Brabazon and his league of scientists, soon detected the vast distortion in the sub-ether cause
d by the passage of the Starweb fleet. Information flashed between the three worlds of Earth, Dyason and Heligsion as the size and probable destination of the attacking hordes was analysed.

  The main control centre for the 'Three World Defence Force', was built deep underground, beneath the Himalayan mountain range, to ensure the greatest chance of survival for the thousands of skilled operators who would co-ordinate the myriad of defensive forces. There were similar, if slightly smaller control centres on Dyason and Heligsion, but it was the Terran site, which would be the main base of operations; for as long as it survived.

  As the man who had invented and installed the early warning system, Josh Brabazon stood next to Fleet Admiral Chenekov as the collated information was displayed on a vast holographic situation board. Chenekov was a bear-like figure and a Ukrainian. She was also a grizzled veteran of the Dyason wars and although she would never admit it to anybody but herself, a dinosaur in peacetime and a tiger in war.

  'So you reckon these magic little devices of yours are working properly Brabazon?' she grunted at the wiry scientist in her heavily accented English. 'This ain't another false alarm caused by another of them damn valves of yours blowing? I'm gonna be real pissed if we dispatch the fleet to chase after a phantom invasion.'

  Brabazon's face went bright red at the Fleet Admiral's gibe. It was true, there had been teething troubles with the system and a couple of false alarms. But he was convinced the sub-ether transponders were working perfectly now.

  'No ma’am,' he replied firmly. 'We solved the last of the interlinking data problems a few days ago. There's no way that a glitch would read as a disturbance as large as this across so many transponders. There's no doubt this is the real thing, I'm afraid to say. Besides, valves went out in the middle of the last century…ma’am!'

  Chenekov gave the scientist a sideways glance and spat a 'humph' from the corner of her mouth not occupied by a vast and foul smelling Cuban cigar. She then turned her attention back to the situation board.

  'So where does your box of tricks tell us their fleet is heading for Brabazon?' she demanded.

  Josh was already prepared for this question and had only to glance at his tablet to confirm the calculated projections.

  'Two smaller fleets are just behind the main group and will probably head for the Dyason and Heligsion star systems,' he told the fleet admiral. 'However, the main thrust of their forces are aimed directly at Earth.'

  'What sort of figures are we talking about?'

  'It's difficult to be accurate about their exact number ma’am,' the scientist explained in an apologetic tone. 'You see, we can only estimate their number, because it's hard to differentiate the individual ships in such a huge sub-ether distortion…’

  'Well just give me your best guess then!' Chenekov snapped impatiently. 'I'm not going to hold you to it man, but we need to have some idea of numbers. Just give it your best shot!'

  Brabazon coughed nervously, looked at his figures once more, then took a deep breath.

  'Our conservative estimate ma’am, is about three thousands vessels in each fleet heading for Dyason and Heligsion.'

  'And the number of those heading for Earth?'

  'Over eight thousand ma’am!'

  'Eight thousand?

  'That's a conservative estimate ma'am,' Josh Brabazon repeated in a tone which suggested he would rather be anywhere but standing before the fleet admiral.

  'God preserve us!' Chenekov exclaimed, 'You'd better start saying your prayers my boy, 'cause we're gonna' need all the help we can get!'

  'Yes ma’am,' Brabazon responded, his face sombre and fearful. They'd been practicing for this moment for days, weeks and months. Now that it was finally about to happen, there was an almost surreal feel to it all. However, there could be no doubt that this was for real and the shit really was about to hit the fan!

  From the depths of the underground bunker the order to initiate the complex, but well prepared defences of Earth, Dyason and Heligsion was sent out via sub-ether transmitters to the three fleets of the TWDF. As well as the hundreds of large and small military bases which were spread throughout the relatively small sector of the galaxy, which was still occupied by the human species.

  Dreadnoughts larger than Excalibur, Valvia or Dominator, the three original starships, brought their artificial singularities on line. Incorporating all the advanced technology gleaned from the ancient Samarcian ships, the new capital ships of the human fleet were vast, at over three kilometres from bow to stern. Their armament was a mix of particle beam, laser and gamma cannons, combined with numerous missiles and Gatling guns firing depleted plutonium shells. Defences were a mix of thick armour plating made of complex carbon fibre, and dispersing energy fields designed to spread and diffuse the impact of beam weapons. Inside their cavernous hulls, were hangars full of the latest marks of Flyships and Snubfighters. Each capital ship carried at least eight squadrons, over two hundred fighters per vessel.

  For each dreadnought, there were six escorting battle cruisers, which in turn were escorted by six destroyers. In total, the Three World Defence Force had one hundred and three capital ships in its three separate fleets. That meant that about four and a half thousand ships, not including the fighters, powered up their singularities and set out to intercept the Starweb fleet. For the Terran society, which had only learned how to fly at the start of the twentieth century, it was a formidable achievement. The human fleet was the culmination of a huge combined effort which incorporated science, design and industrial will. However, only time could tell whether the almost superhuman effort of so many people would be enough to defeat the numerical superiority of the Starweb.

  As more data became available from the sub-ether transponders, Josh Brabazon was better able to predict the arrival of the Guardians of God. Even traveling at speeds many times faster than light, the depth at which the Starweb fleet was moving through the sub-ether meant it would be some eight standard days before they entered the Solar system and the Dyason and Heligsion systems. The fleets would probably all re-enter normal space at the same time, to maximize their impact on the defences.

  However, what the sentient computers didn't know was their prey's carefully prepared plan to intercept their fleet in the sub-ether itself. At first, many had speculated that such a thing was impossible, but after much theorizing and experimentation Brabazon and the leading cosmologists of the human species, finally agreed that it was possible for the opposing fleets to engage in the sub-ether as they would normal space. After all, the sub-ether was merely another dimension of space and time.

  Which was why, the sub-ether early warning system was so important to the defence of the Three Worlds. Without it, the human fleet would have no option but to engage the minions of the Starweb on their doorstep, so to speak. With it, the defending fleet would engage the invasion force four days out from the home worlds.

  It would mean a long running battle that would go on without pause for days on end. Which was fine for the never sleeping, never tiring, sentient machines, but it would take the defending humans to the very limits of their physical and mental endurance. Their only hope was that by the time the remaining Starweb vessels finally reached their objectives, their fleet should hopefully have been whittled down to a level where the home defences could finish them off. At least that was the plan, Brabazon just prayed they could put it into operation.

  The swirling mist of the wormhole appeared as a multi-coloured vapour rotating around a central point in an anti-clockwise direction. Tendrils of gas reached out from a broiling central mass. As the spinning motion increased in velocity, an area of pure darkness emerged at the epicentre of the anomaly. It appeared as if someone had pulled the plug and everything was being sucked into the centre of the wormhole.

  Sitting in the centre of the Terran home fleet, Excalibur engaged its drives and in close formation with the hundreds of other dreadnoughts, cruisers and destroyers, moved toward the apex of the artificially created worm-hole. The
ships at the head of the cone-shaped formation disappeared into the broiling central mass first, followed rapidly by Excalibur and her escorting destroyers. The darkness of three-dimensional space disappeared and was replaced by the multi-coloured, constantly changing patterns of the sub-ether.

  For those crew members able to observe the scene on their display screens, it was an awesome sight. Vessels of differing designs and sizes ploughed through the strange almost viscous substance of the sub-ether, their composite hulls reflecting the dancing rainbows colours. The sheer scale of the human fleet, and the way in which it moved through this other dimension of time and space, was more than the majority of minds could comprehend. Which was why the external display screens were quickly switched off. At such a time as this, it did no good at all to be reminded of the incomprehensible scale of the cosmos, and the comparative insignificance of just one species battling for survival.

  Captain Black sat in the familiar commanders chair on the bridge of Excalibur and watched the computer generated holographic display of the fleet formation. This display, devoid of the disorientating myriad of sub-ether colours, made their position in the fleet far easier to comprehend. The mood on the bridge was quiet and pensive as the crew professionally went about their tasks, but inevitably reflected on the battle ahead. Many of the crew were veterans from the last encounter with the Starweb, when they had successfully beaten a force intent on invading Dyason. However, it had been a close run thing and despite a vast increase in the size and number of ships in the Three World Defence Force, there was no guarantee that they would defeat the minions of the Starweb once more. They were about to engage a fleet of machines; entities devoid of the concept of death or pain, which outnumbered the more fragile humans tenfold. The odds weren't good.