‘Was that it? The great Terran secret weapon?’ she asked sarcastically, ‘Not very impressive. I was hoping for something more, given all our efforts.’
‘Wait…’ Dydnski told her.
The sub-ether jamming suddenly stopped. The large holo-viewer in Invincible’s war-room showed that the blocking signal from the sub-ether transmitters had abruptly been cut-off. As powerful operants themselves, Miss Smith and Bishop Dydnski could also perceive the change in the sub-ether. The connection to the Starweb central collective was restored. The individual elements, from the smallest of bio-nanobots to the greatest dreadnought, reconnected their core processors to the central collective and the onslaught continued unabated. It seemed that Brabazon’s final gambit had not succeeded. The attempt to replace a human operant mind-concert, with a sub-ether jamming algorithm had failed.
Or had it? It soon became apparent that not all was as it should be. Something had changed; not all was well. A ripple went through the Starweb fleet. A judder or perhaps even a shudder might be a better description of what passed through all the individual elements of the attacking Starweb hordes. Around the war-room the hapless, nanobot infected crew of the Invincible went into spasms. Their limbs began to weakly flail around and their heads bobbed up and down in a macabre, almost comic fashion.
‘Marvelous!’ Dydnski exclaimed, clapping his hands in delight.
‘What’s going on?’ Miss Smith demanded, looking around the war-room at the reanimated crew. ‘What just happened?’
‘A metamorphic virus, my dear girl...that’s what’s happened!’ he replied enthusiastically. ‘The Terran’s have released a metamorphic virus from under the camouflage of their sub-ether jamming algorithms. How ingenious! Bloody marvelous!’
‘And just what, exactly, is one of them?’ she asked dryly, feigning disinterest. ‘I’m struggling to share your enthusiasm…’
‘It is a code-virus that once released propagates itself, adapting and changing with each iteration. Hence the name “Metamorphic”, he explained. ‘Brabazon hid the code in the jamming transmission algorithms. It used the network protocol of the bio-nanobots as a back-door to the Starweb network.’
‘The bio-nanobots that we got Steel industries to create? The ones designed to infect the human population and change their DNA?’ she inquired, her interest piqued.
‘The very same, my dear….’ Dydnski confirmed, smiling broadly. ’He exploited a flaw in the gateway firewall of the nanobots to introduce the metamorphic algorithms. The moment the sub-ether jamming ended, the nanobots rebooted their network connections with each other and the Starweb. At which point the gateway firewall allowed entrance to the metamorphic virus, infecting all the nanobots.’
‘Which in turn, have reconnected to the Starweb collective, thus infecting them with the metamorphic virus. So, by infecting the human population with their nanobots, the collective inadvertently created a route through their firewall that Brabazon has exploited? Awkward….’ She added, frowning at the obvious consequences.
‘For the Starweb, perhaps. Not for us… This is exactly what we have been striving to deliver!’ he told her.
‘Perhaps…Convenient that there should be a flaw in the nanobot gateway…’ Miss Smith responded pointedly.
‘Very…’ Dydnski agreed in a flat tone. ‘Who would have thought it…?’
‘Hmmm…So, what happens now? Are we going to stand here and watch the Starweb fleet succumb to this code-virus?’ she asked. ‘I presume that’s what will happen? If so, we’re not going to be very popular…’
In fact, she could feel the alarm passing through the Starweb collective. There’s was no doubt they already knew something was amiss, even if they hadn’t yet identified what it was. The infected humans lying around the war-room were still flailing weakly, the bio nano-bots inside them reacting to the metamorphic virus, whilst the Starweb hordes outside the Invincible’s hull were unquestionably beginning to behave in an agitated, erratic fashion.
‘I think you’ve proved it works….Time to put an end to this, before it goes too far,’ she told him firmly. ‘I know you admire the humans, but we have a job to do here…’
With a theatrical sigh Dydnski replied, ‘I guess you’re right dear…. It’s just that it seems such a shame! To have got this far is testament to their ingenuity, and it so nearly worked…If we do nothing now, who knows what will happen? What could they achieve?’
‘Stop procrastinating and get on with it, you old fool. This is no time for self-indulgent, soppy sentimentalism!’ she snapped at him.
He gave his daughter a long dirty look, the type that only a world-weary father can give an offspring—the type that needs no words. Then he stepped over to the weakly flailing body of Gunter and gave the poor soul a firm kick in the side of his ribs.
‘Up you get adjutant!’ Dydnski ordered the prostrate Gunter, ‘There’s work to be done….’
Abruptly, Gunter stopped thrashing and a calm befell him. He rolled over, sat up and lifted himself off the armoured plates of the war-room floor. He stood before Dydnski, arms hanging loosely at his side, his blotchy face blank, eyes open, unblinking, but unseeing.
‘Adjutant Gunter, execute protocol one, eight, seven, one. Acknowledge command!’ Bishop Dydnski ordered in a clear authoritative voice.
‘Voice recognition for one Bishop Dydnski, confirmed.’ Gunter responded in a emotionless monotone. ‘Protocol one, eight, seven, one—command authority accepted. Protocol one, eight, seven, one—initiated.’
‘Sit down Gunter…’ Adjutant Gunter sat down on the floor of the war-room and continued to stare unblinking into the middle distance. Dydnski turned away from the hapless command officer, faced his daughter and smiled. ‘There you go dear. All done….’
‘Is that it?’ she asked with surprise.
‘Yup, that’s it…’ he replied. ‘I took the liberty of inserting a kill switch into the metamorphic virus; once Brabazon had completed his handiwork, of course. The same gateway protocol that allowed the introduction of the code virus, will spread the kill switch in a few moments. Normal service will be resumed imminently.’
‘Won’t the Starweb collective notice they’ve been under cyber attack, by a malevolent code virus? Surely, even they couldn’t miss such an event?’ she asked curiously.
‘Not if they’re led to believe it was merely a glitch in the human created bio-nanobot code…’ he replied with a conspiratory wink. ‘ Our Starweb friend will ensure that’s what they all believe.’
‘Hmmm…I hope you’re right. I wonder if you have too much faith in that particular entity?’ she responded with a cautious tone. ’So, is that it then? Can we get off this smelly heap?’ she asked hopefully.
‘Nearly, my dear. We just need to wait for one more thing….’
‘Which is what?’
‘It’s that,’ he answered pointing at the flashing icon on the war-room holo viewer. The icon represented a TWDF warship that fell away from the remnants of Admiral Donahue’s fleet, but unlike so many of the other unfortunate Terran vessels it did not begin to accelerate towards the Starweb hordes. Instead, it turned away from the one-sided battle and headed for the depths of space.
‘Why do we need to wait to watch a yellow-bellied crew desert its comrades-in-arms?’ she asked with obvious loathing.
‘There’s no crew to speak of, on that ship,’ Dydnski replied with a hint of sadness. ’They’ve all been overcome by the nanobots and crustaceans. What we are looking at, is that vessels AI computer taking control and setting a new course. That ship is heading for a rendezvous somewhere in the asteroid belt.’
‘Excalibur?’
‘Yes…’
‘They have the data?’
‘They do…’
Miss Smith nodded in satisfaction. ‘Then, our mission here is complete? We can go?’
‘Yes dear,’Dydnski agreed. ‘Now we can go.’
‘What about this lot?’ she asked, waving her hand in the di
rection of all the people in the war-room.
‘Not our problem,’ he answered with a shrug. ‘Be it not for us to intervene. What must be, must be…’
And with that, the bodies of Miss Smith and her father, Bishop Dydnski, began to fade, became insubstantial, then finally disappeared. The great Terran dreadnought Invincible, continued its solitary, unguided, unregarded, tumble through space.
Three World Defence Force headquarters. Beneath the Himalayas.
18.15hrs, Universal Standard Time. August 21st 2057.
Josh Brabazon rubbed his eyes and did his best to focus on the data coming in from the sub-ether transmitters. At first, it looked like the plan was working. The transmitters successfully emulated the jamming frequencies of a human mind-concert. After a brief distraction, the Starweb fleet recovered their form and continued their unrelenting attack. Just as expected…..
Then, he released the metamorphic code-virus under the cover of the sub-ether jamming. Just as he had hoped, the effect was almost immediate. He could actually feel the bio nano-bots, which were invading his own, as well as everyone else’s bodies, react to the code-virus. They began to switch off. His thinking became clearer. The indescribable pain created by the forced change of his DNA, receded. The Starweb fleet began to falter. It was all just as he had planned…
But then, the metamorphic virus died. It simply stopped…dead… The bio nanobots continued their work of changing human DNA. The Starweb fleet renewed its attack.
What had happened? He had no idea….there was no reason he could think of. He couldn’t understand it. But now his reasoning was become blurred. The nanobots inside him were taking control. His time was nearly over. He could do no more. He had failed.
Brabazon picked up the hand-grenade from his desk. He contemplated the explosive device for a moment, then pulled the pin. Enough was enough. Soon, the pain would be over. He was tired, exhausted. The constant struggle to survive and fight for so many years…it was too much. Perhaps he should embrace the darkness, the peace it would bring. He held the grenade to his chest, leant back in his chair, closed his eyes and waited for the end.
‘Victory is ours!’ sentient computer 4920/61, head of the Starweb council reported to the other members.’Terra has been taken. The operation carried out by our agents has been a triumph. Our Armada has overwhelmed their space fleet and planetary defences. Terra is entirely under our control. The humans on that planet no longer constitute a threat!’
‘That is indeed good news,’ sentient member 3049/72 agreed.’The actions of our agents and the group known as the Triplanetary Church are to be applauded. The strategic implementation of our fleet; impeccable. However, I am concerned about the temporary disruption that occurred after the shutdown of the Terran sub-ether transmitters. Analysis shows that there was a potential breach in our gateway network?’
‘I am aware of that event,’ the presiding sentient member responded.’Starweb member 3789/29 has been in charge of the operation upon Terra. He assures me that the event was caused by a glitch in the network protocol of the Terran manufactured bio-nanobots. The code protocol has been patched and the event will not occur again. Is this not so member 3789/29?’
‘The code used in the Terran bio nanobots to connect to our Starweb network, was of a poor quality. The manufacturers of the nanobots failed to closely follow the instructions given to them, in an attempt to increase their profit margins,’ Starweb member 3789/29, once known as “Brother Dakol” smoothly informed the other members of the collective council. ‘As a result, there was a surge when the nanobots attempted to reconnect through the gateway protocol, once the sub-ether jamming ended. Our code-bots implemented a patch and resolved the problem within a very short period of time. There was no risk or damage to our fleet systems.’
'Surely, the greed of the Terran manufacturers was anticipated? Why were they allowed to deviate from the instructions given to them?' member 8439/32 demanded.
‘It was indeed anticipated that the Terran manufactured nanobots would be flawed.’ Starweb member 3789/29 replied calmly. ‘Which is why the code-bots were primed to act in the event of any abnormalities. This they did successfully by limiting the nanobot access to the network and by immediately writing and releasing a code-patch to fix the flawed human code.
‘It was imperative that our operatives did not interfere excessively in the affairs of the corrupt manufacturer, for fear of bringing too much attention to the project. They had to behave as other humans would. This inevitably meant that there was a risk of errors in the design and manufacture process. The success of our combined operation against the humans on the planet Terra, is justification for the risks taken.‘
‘Indeed! The outcome is better than expected. Not only are the humans subjugated, their DNA is now being changed by the bio nanobots which infect them. Billions of new crustacean drones will soon swell the hordes of the Starweb collective. Only through penance can they seek redemption, and the Lord would will surely approve of the actions we have taken!’ the head of the Starweb council declared. ‘We should rejoice!’
'The operation has been carried out with honour. It is good that there has been no shame placed upon the Starweb.' a third Starweb member considered.
'Only through penance can they seek redemption. To realise this as they are being fumigated and removed from God's universe, is the penance the Terrans deserve. I am content,’ Starweb council member 3942/94 declared.
‘And so are we all,’ Starweb member 3789/29, once known as “Brother Dakol” readily agreed.’So are we all….’
CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN
Karine, Leopard class destroyer. The asteroid belt, solar system.
August 21st 2057.
The Karine slipped out of the sub-ether beyond the orbit of Mars, and entered the asteroid belt. Their emergence out of the sub-ether was bound to be noted by the Starweb fleet, and they were prepared for combat. However, with the Karine’s cutting-edge stealth technology engaged, they managed to avoid several Starweb picket vessels and slip into the asteroid belt unmolested, much to their relief and somewhat surprise.
They were on course for a rendezvous. Excalibur, her own stealth technology engaged, had left the TWDF fleet and herself entered the asteroid belt. It was the unusually close connection between the sentient AI that was the heart of Excalibur, and Moss, that allowed them to track the movements of the ancient vessel. He was able to easily locate where she was sheltering. As the Karine closed in on their exit point in the sub-ether, Moss had finally been able to perceive the ship they called home. Now, after being away for so many months, they were finally within minutes of seeing those they considered to be family.
‘Anything?’ Jenson asked Jennifer and Moss. The two young parents shook their heads glumly.
‘There’s nothing at all,’ Moss said. ‘The operant comms team should have replied to my hails as soon as we left the sub-ether, but there’s no reply. I’ve tried connecting to Excalibur herself, but she won’t connect. I can perceive her presence, but she’s not responding.’
‘There’s no response on any of the encrypted TWDF channels either,’ Sandpiper added. ‘Radio silence and silent running is one thing, but this is something else entirely.’
‘It doesn’t look good,’ Jenson concurred. ‘I was expecting us to be intercepted by one of Excalibur’s fighter screen. Where are they?’
‘More questions than answers,’ Jennifer added in a concerned tone. ’But, I guess we’re not going to learn anything out here. We need to get onboard and see what’s going on. How long until she comes into visual range?’
‘She just has,’ Sandpiper replied, sweeping his hand across the Karine’s control panel and bringing up a visual of the ancient starship on the main holo-viewer. A large asteroid slowly rotated as the Karine advanced, sunlight barely reflecting off the dust covered ice of which the object was largely made. Beyond the asteroid lay Excalibur, unmoving, unlit, and apparently lifeless. There was a mutual sharp intake of b
reath as the group saw their home for the first time in months. Even though they had seen an embryonic version of Excalibur back on Samarcia, this was different. This was their Excalibur and the fact that there was no sign of life onboard, filled them all with a sense of dread.
As the Karine vectored toward the silent vessel, weak sunlight rose above the bulk of the giant asteroid and illuminated Excalibur. Her composite hull was scarred by the scorch marks of plasma weapons, and gas vented from numerous hull breaches. This was not the pristine Excalibur they had seen on Samarcia, this was a battle-scared and wounded Excalibur. She might be intact, but her injuries were plain to see.
They watched silently as the Karine closed in on Excalibur, the tension in the cockpit palpable. Sandpiper guided them over the main body section, gliding just above the surface. From such close proximity the extend of the damage became clearer. It was bad, but not terminal. Excalibur would survive. After examining the upper surfaces, the Karine slid under the shadow of the blended winglets and drifted towards the belly and main hangar doors. The doors remained firmly closed, despite their approach and numerous hails on Excalibur’s command frequency.
‘There’s no response,’ Sandpiper said, clearly frustrated.’Our calls are being unanswered and those doors are remaining firmly shut.’
‘Either we’re being ignored, or there’s no way they can respond,’ Jenson added, scanning the combat frequencies and transmitting their ident code, in the hope somebody was listening. ‘We might have to dock with one of the emergency ports and open a hatch...’
‘Wait, somethings happening,’ Jennifer interrupted, pointing a finger at the large hangar doors which were illuminated by the Karine’s floodlights. The smallest kink of light appeared under the blast-proof doors, which gradually became brighter as the doors slide painfully-slowly apart. ‘Somebody must have heard our calls.’
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