Aroha raised an eyebrow but didn’t ask for any more information, she simply nodded then said, ‘We’ll do what we can Captain.’
Black nodded in acknowledgment, turned heel and headed for the nearest transport pod. Aroha watched Black march off for a moment, then turned to the hapless ground crew and barked, ‘Well don’t just sit there like a bunch of gormless school kids! Hand her over to security, then clean this mess up!’ Despite their exhaustion, the group jumped to comply, scattering tools and parts over the hangar floor. Aroha shook her head wearily and walked away.
It was clear as soon as he walked into the Medical Centre, that something was badly amiss. A member of the security team met him as he left the deck transport pod, an automatic combat rifle cradled in his burly arms and his side-arm ready to be drawn. After saluting and a curt, ‘Please walk in front of me sir,’ the security officer escorted Black into the medical centre itself, being careful to keep his captain in full view all the time. There were two more armed security personnel beside the clear glass doors who saluted smartly as Black passed into the reception area. Once inside, he was intercepted by a concerned looking medic who asked that he follow her. He did so, and they strode down a corridor, passing glass cubicles, each occupied by several medics and their pale unresponsive patients. Black recognised some of the faces, and could recall their names. Good crew, each and everyone of them. Just what the frack was going on? Seeing the horrific injuries of some of the returning Flyships and Snubfighters was one thing, but this was just as bad, if not more chilling.
They entered the nursing ward control centre, a glass cubicle similar to the others, but larger. Wall mounted holographic screens that sat above monitoring stations, surrounded the room, but there were no medical staff to be seen except for Dr Berry herself. Seeing Black enter, she stood up from her work-station and strode toward him, a small blood analyser in her hands. Before he could say a word, she grabbed the index finger of his left hand and pressed the unit onto the finger-tip. He felt a small prick as the analyser took a drop of his blood. Dr Berry nodded to the security guard who turned, left the control cubicle and took up sentry position just outside the glass door. Without looking at Black, she returned to the work station and placed the analyser in its receptacle. Immediately numbers, charts and graphics flashed up on a wall mounted monitor as his blood was rapidly analysed. The doctor read the displayed results, then placed her head in her hands, clearly distraught. Black stepped forward until he too could read the results on the monitor. He had no medical training, but you didn’t have to be a doctor to realise the result of the blood sample wasn’t good.
‘What’s going on Marie? He asked gently. ’Why did you need to analyse my blood so urgently?
‘It came out positive…. Just like everybody else,’ she whispered.
‘Positive for what?’ Black asked, alarmed but trying to stay calm. Just what had he been tested positive for?
‘Nanobots,’ was the answer. ’Biological nanobots!’
Black was stunned, physically took a step back and for a few moments, didn’t know what to say. Eventually, with a big sigh, Dr Berry turned around to face him. Her usual cheerful demeanor was gone, replaced with a look of fatigue and sorrow that aged her beyond her years.
’You’ve been infected with biological nanobots, as have we all,’ she explained. ‘These behaviour incidents by the crew; they’re caused by the nanobots being activated.’
‘How? What? Where did they come from? I don’t understand...’ Black exclaimed, collapsing into a nearby chair. ‘How is this all possible? What are they doing?’
‘While you were on the hangar deck I received a message from the Invincible, telling us of increasing behavioral incidents onboard the Invincible and other ships in the fleet. It was they who told me to check for nanobots in the crew blood samples,’ she told Black earnestly, her tired eyes looking directly into his own. ‘I’ve also received a message from Josh Brabazon on Earth. He’s send data on a pandemic that is sweeping through the population like wildfire. The first analysis of the victims of the pandemic show the infection is of biological nanobots.’
‘What the frack?’ Black said in astonishment. ‘How bad is it? What are these nanobots doing? Where did they come from?
‘They’re changing people’s DNA…’ was the blunt reply. ‘And they’re man-made…I’ll let Excalibur explain. It’ll be easier. Excalibur?’
‘Yes Doctor Berry?’ the smooth female tones of Excalibur’s AI computer replied. ‘Would you like me to tell the Captain? Regarding the nanobot infections?’
‘Go ahead Excalibur,’ Black interjected.
‘The crew of Excalibur has been infected with biological nanobots,’ Excalibur explained. ‘A nanorobot is a controllable nano or molecular-sized device. It is designed, manufactured, and programmed on a molecular scale. Nanorobots are capable of operational movement, sensing, signaling, processing information and artificial intelligence either on an individual basis, or in conjunction with other nanorobots. Nanorobots have the ability to interact with and change matter on the molecular nano scale. The abilities of nanorobots include singular or mass artificial intelligence, self-replication and repair, data processing and matter manipulation on nano-sized molecules.’
‘Oh Frack! I don’t like where this is going…’ Black exclaimed.
‘Please continue,’ Doctor Berry asked Excalibur.
‘A biological nanorobot is made from biological matter,’ Excalibur continued calmly, ‘They replicate from the biocompatible materials found within the host body. Because they are made from the hosts own biological tissues, they are not perceived as a threat by the hosts immune system. Biological nanorobots have been designed for medical purposes to carry out internal DNA changes within the hosts, without external surgery or intervention.’
‘Oh dear God…’ Black blurted out. It didn’t take artificial intelligence to see where this was all going. Excalibur ignored the outburst and continued to deliver the bad news.
‘Analysis of the nanorobots infecting the crew show that they are designed and manufactured on Earth by Steel Industries. Steel Industries is run by the Englishman Lord Steel, who has recently been associated with the religious cult, Triplanetary Church,’ Excalibur told them, her voice remaining soothingly calm despite what she was telling them. ‘Steel Industries have been involved in both military and civilian research into biological nanorobots. The military research was a top-secret project for the TWDF, the aim of which was to create a type of generic nanorobot that could alter the DNA of any biological host. The target host was the biological Starweb drones, commonly known as “crustaceans”, but the nanorobots would also by default, be able to change the DNA of other host beings, including Humans.
‘The pharmaceutical brand “Zenmedicane” is part of the Steel Industries group and provides medical supplies to the TWDF as well as civilian governments across Earth, Dyason and parts of Heligsion. Data sent by Josh Brabazon and his team on Earth suggests that dormant biological nanobots have been placed into food additives, packaging and medical supplies, such as common aspirin and vitamin tablets; by Zenmedica, for at least the past eight months. Once a host has become infected, the nanorobots can be passed to another host via physical contact. The human population has become infected, initially through the consumption of processed food and common pharmaceuticals; followed by person to person contact. The data sent to us from Earth suggests that over ninety percent of the human population has become infected with these nanorobots.
‘Analysis of the behaviour of the nanorobots shows that they had all been dormant, until becoming activated in the past twenty four to forty eight hours. Once activated, the nanorobots appear to be doing two tasks; depending on the host they occupy. Some hosts are used as incubators to replicate larger biological robots, which can exists outside the host environment. These are the swarms of small arachnids being reported on Earth. The other task, which appears to be prevalent here aboard Excalibur and other vessels of
the fleet, is to change the DNA of the host. This change is in the opposite direction to that envisaged by the TWDF research programme. Instead of changing Crustacean DNA into human DNA, the reverse is happening. Human DNA is being turned into crustacean DNA...’
Excalibur finished her dialog and a silence descended upon the medical control room, punctuated only by the soft hum of the ventilation units. Dr Berry said nothing and Black leant forward in his chair, elbows on his knees, hands clasped, staring silently at the floor. It was sometime before he sat up, pressed a finger to his ear-piece unit and called his number two Vassilis. ‘Lauryn,’ he said quietly. ‘Arrange a conference call with Admiral Donahue to start in fifteen minutes time. Make sure Invincible knows it’s of the highest urgency. Try and get Josh Brabazon on the sub-ether net and make sure every senior officer is in attendance. No excuses….’
With that Black stood up, left the cubicle, strode down the corridor and exited the Medical Centre. Dr Berry and the security squad followed in his wake.
The weary face of Fleet Admiral Donahue filled the larger portion of the wall-sized holographic display, whilst the images of all the fleet senior officers were visible in the background. In the lower left corner of the vast display was the holographic image of Josh Brabazon, who looked exhausted and clearly distraught. Fleet Admiral Chenekov was positioned beside him, chewing grimly on her unlit Havana cigar. Black sat at the head of the conference table in Excalibur’s war room, surrounded by first officer Vassilis, Dr Berry and the ships other senior officers. They all listened intently as Admiral Donahue began to summarize the sub-ethernet conference call.
‘Masorak intelligence shows that Steel Industries and its subsidiary Zenmedicane are directly linked to the spread of the pandemic. There appears to be some link between the leader of the Triplanetary Church, Bishop Dydnski and the head of Steel industries, Lord Steel. There seems little doubt that they have been somehow infiltrated by the Starweb. Non of which is of much help to us now…’ Admiral Donahue summarized in as calm as voice as she could muster.
‘Over a period of months, the vast majority of the human species has become infected with biological nano-robots, which were designed to aid humanity in the battle with the Starweb, but have in fact, been turned against us. Invisible to the human immune system, the nanobots have lain dormant until the appearance of the Starweb fleet, at which point they were activated. Now the nanobots are replicating and changing human DNA with brutal speed and efficiency. The weapon has bas been turned against its creators.
‘Designed to be stealthy and hard to detect, these biological nanobots can only be detected once activated, by which time it is too late to do anything for the infected person. Unfortunately, it appears that the vast majority of us have been infected and the nanobots inside us have been activated. Our time is short…’
In the lower left of the of the holographic display, movement caused Black to look at the image of Josh Brabazon and Admiral Chenekov. The admiral looked perplexed and spat out her signature Havana cigar. A flood of green fluid emanated from where the cigar in her mouth had been. Josh Brabazon’s face turned to horror as he watched his boss vomit a mass of arachnids. He leapt back in alarm, disappeared from view and the video feed was cut. The space they had occupied on the lower left corner of the holographic monitor went blank. Black went pale and his senior officers glanced at each other, then their captain, in alarm and fear. Admiral Donahue continued her narrative as if unaware of what had just happened.
‘In fact,’ she continued, ‘there is no more time. The Starweb fleet is about to leave the sub-ether and emerge inside the orbit of Mars. The remnants of our fleet and the TWDF Home defences, although vastly outnumbered, will have to engage to defend the Earth, regardless. There is no time to look for a solution to the nanobots in the few hours left to us. Our options are limited, the need great.’
‘So the counter-attack is to continue as planned?’ Black asked, trying not to show his alarm at what they had just witnessed. ‘Despite the fact that our crew and ourselves may become incapacitated at any moment?’
‘We have no choice but to defend Earth in the hope we may prevail; despite the odds,’Admiral Donahue replied earnestly. ‘And if it appears your crew and your ship are about to become incapacitated by the pandemic, then you know what to do….’
This final point was met by silence as each group of officers from the TWDF fleet considered the meaning of her words. Black said no more. There was after all, nothing more to be said…
‘If there are no more questions, then it remains for me to say how proud I am to have worked with such good people, the best humanity can offer. I wish you all Godspeed. Ensure you brief your crews thoroughly, they deserve to know the truth. Make peace with your maker, then prepare for the final battle…’
Karine, Leopard class destroyer. In transit through the Sub-Ether.
August 21st 2057.
The crew cabins on the Karine were small but comfortable. Moss looked at Jennifer sleeping soundly in the bed, with baby Arthur also asleep in a cot they had managed to get the ship’s replicator-printer to produce. Exhaustion had overcome them all, Jennifer in particular. So they had been using the time it was taking to retrace their path back through the depths of the sub-ether, to where they hoped was their own time-line; to bond as a new family and catch up with much needed sleep.
He eased himself quietly out of the bed and stepped into the small shower cubicle. He’d awoken with a feeling that something wasn’t quite right. Not so much here on the Karine, but something out there in the sub-ether. He couldn’t pinpoint what the problem was and hoped that a quick shower would wake him up sufficiently to work out what was amiss. The hot water and steam from the shower was soothing and he pondered over what had awoken him. Clearly, there was no issue with the ship itself, or any immediate threat. Sandpiper was on watch in the cockpit and would have hit the alarm if there were any real problems. So, Moss let his mind drift through the surrounding sub-ether, his operant sense of perception enabling him to feel disturbances around them. However, the Karine was still too far down in the lower layers for him to perceive very far. The disturbance was there, still some distance away, but large enough to create a ripple effect in the other layers of the sub-ether. Which was why he could feel it.
After a few minutes Moss turned off the shower, toweled himself down, then dressed. His heart took a little leap as he paused to watch his sleeping wife and baby son, then he quietly slipped out of the cabin and headed for the Karine’s cockpit. When he got there he found Sandpiper in the pilots chair, feet up on a side-console, eyes closed. The windows were dimmed, so only a gentle glow from the passing sub-ether illuminated the cockpit. Soft jazz music was being played by the ships computer and it looked for all the world like Sandpiper was fast-asleep. However, Moss wasn’t taken in by the carefully crafted ambiance of bien-être. He eased himself into the co-pilots chair, put his feet up on the side-console, leaned back and casually asked, ‘So…did the scanners pick up anything unusual in the sub-ether?’
‘Yup….’ Sandpiper replied without opening his eyes. ‘Faint, garbled TWDF communication traffic from somewhere ahead of us. Directly on our flightpath, but well short of our planned exit point.’
‘How long before we will be close enough to decipher the communications?’ Moss asked.
‘About fifty minutes,’ was the reply.’I’ve told the computer to alert us when it can read the messages.’
Long enough for Moss to follow the example of his old friend and chill-out. He shut his eyes and soaked in the soft jazz and gentle lighting. The ambiance was indeed very soothing and in only a couple of minutes he was gently snoring.
Between lunar orbit and the orbit of Mars
21.43hrs, Universal Standard Time. August 21st 2057.
Beyond the orbit of Earth and the moon, but inside the orbit of Mars, a swirling mist of a wormhole appeared as a multicoloured 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. Once again it appeared as if someone had pulled the plug and everything was being sucked into the centre of the wormhole. The mists parted and the gargantuan Starweb fleet re-entered normal space. The vast fleet comprised of sleek needle-nosed Webfighters, vast dreadnoughts, heavily armed cruisers and enormous troop ships. They streamed out of the whirling mists of the wormhole in their thousands, one after another like a river of dark, ominous objects. After what seemed like an eternity, the last Starweb vessels left the swirling mists of the wormhole, the hindmost vessels clearly being harassed by smaller ships. Like hyenas snapping at the heels of wildebeest, the TWDF fighters continued their attempt to slow the advance of the Starweb hordes. However, it was clear that like a pack of dogs attacking migrating herds, their attempts had little impact upon their sheer weight of numbers and were therefore largely futile.
After the hordes had finally cleared the swirling mists of the wormhole, there was a few minutes pause; then the bedraggled remains of the TWDF fleet began to emerge. Like a gaggle of B17s bombers returning from a WW2 raid, there were obvious gaps in the formation left by vessels that no longer existed. Other vessels showed obvious signs of damage, with entrails flailing in the void of space, and wisps of venting atmosphere trailing behind them. In comparison to the massive Starweb fleet, their numbers were pitifully few and those still in a fit state to face combat, even fewer.
Between Earth and the hordes was the TWDF Home Fleet, the last, desperate line of defence. The Home Fleet vessels twinkled like tiny stars in the distance, beyond the front ranks of the Starweb, seemingly too far away to be of consequence. However, this was merely an illusion. Capable of moving at near light speeds, the combined fleets of the Starweb and Terrans would engage soon enough. The stage was set for the final showdown and it wasn’t looking good for the Terran defenders.
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