Galactic Empires

by Gardner R. Dozois

  "The Boss will be blown apart," said Donn, wondering.

  "Yes. A detonation over in seconds, after years of preparation. But the explosion will be asymmetrical, that layer heated by the neutrinos turbulent. This is the key to such explosions, and it is this turbulence we are hoping to control. For the asymmetry will blast the neutron star out of the debris of the Boss-it will leave with a significant velocity—while releasing a pulse of gravitational wave energy that we would hope to tap and-"

  "A supernova," Five said. "That's what you're talking about, isn't it? You're going to turn the Boss into a supernova."

  "We believe it will be the first artificial detonation of its kind in the evolution of the universe. A supernova used as a cannon to fire out a neutron star, directed as we please! History is watching us, Donn Wyman."

  The Silverman comically raised its stump of an arm. "Magnificent!"

  Donn paced around. "You're insane."

  "Now you do sound like Jack Raoul," said the Ambassador.

  "You will devastate worlds!"

  "Actually, stars, too," said the Ambassador. "Nearby stars will be boiled away."

  "And the Reef," Donn said grimly. "Surely, we're too close to survive."

  Five said, "The Reef is ships joined up together, isn't it? I don't remember. You could just fly away."

  "We don't have hyperdrive," Donn said. "Confiscated by the Coalition for their Navy ships. I don't imagine they will be handing them back." He turned on the Ambassador. "This is mass murder. Why are you doing this?"

  "Because of the Seer." The new voice was a woman's: Eve Raoul's. Donn heard her words moments before a cloud of pixels popped into existence and coalesced into her thin form.

  * * *

  She stepped to the edge of the platform. "My. Quite a view. Quite a drop, too." She reached out absently, but none of them had a Virtual hand to offer her, and she stepped back.

  "I wasn't expecting to see you again," Donn said.

  "Well, I didn't expect to be revived again," she said with a trace of bitterness. "At least I'm not in any pain this time. I guess it's good to be useful."

  "Useful how?"

  The Ambassador said, "Eve is helping us understand an entity of our own creation, an entity whose wishes have brought us all here today."

  Donn's heart thumped. "You mean the Seer."

  "Turn around, Five, Donn."

  They turned. The Silverman was holding, in his one hand, a box, a tetrahedron ten centimeters or so to an edge. It seemed to have clear walls, and its interior was black and full of stars, stars that swarmed-that, at any rate, was Donn's first impression. Five and Donn both stepped closer to look. The "stars" were no more than dust motes, pushed to and fro by random currents in whatever air filled the box.

  Donn said, "It's like a toy. What is it?"

  "The Seer," Eve said.

  The Ambassador said, "The control of the core of a giant star during a catastrophic explosion is ferociously difficult. Even modeling it was beyond our processing resources. So we devised a new generation of AI."

  Five said, "This box of dust?"

  "This box of dust," Eve said, "is about the most advanced AI we're aware of. For a machine like this, physically you need components that are small enough to be influenced by quantum effects, yet large enough to feel the effects of gravity. A swarm of smart microprobes—dust motes."

  "A machine like what?"

  "A quantum gravity AI."

  "On the Miriam, we have quantum AIs," Donn said.

  "Right," Eve said, nodding. "And that gives you an edge. A simple switch can only be in one state at a time—on or off. A quantum switch holds information about all possible states of the switch at any one time. And so you can use it to do parallel processing. Many inputs, many outputs. You get a speed advantage, and a significant one.

  "But a quantum gravity machine goes one step further. You abandon causality altogether."

  The blurring of position and velocity in quantum mechanics made traditional causality problematic. And in relativity, too, lightspeed limits ensured that causality was more an aspiration than an iron law.

  Donn started to see. "And if you put quantum mechanics and relativity together—"

  "In a quantum gravity computer, cause and effect are thoroughly mixed up. You don't even need to have input before output, causally. In practice, I think, the Seer is able to glimpse the outline of a solution to a given problem even before it has begun its calculation, and so can guide its processing efficiently to that outcome. In retrospect, its thinking feels like guesswork, an unlikely series of inductive leaps. But it's always right, and very, very fast."

  "The Seer really can see the future," Five said, "just as the rumors say."

  "But its visions are limited to the outcomes of computing algorithms a few microseconds ahead-or to the furthest future, millennia or more away."

  Five glared at the Ambassador. "So why the tetrahedron, fatball? Why is this ultimate brain in a box the shape of the symbol of human freedom?"

  "A tetrahedron was the most suitable shape for-"

  "It's a totem, that's what I think. Some of the Samples believe Ghosts are starting to worship humans, because we're becoming so good at killing you. Hence the Silvermen, walking human statues. Hence the tetrahedral box."

  The Ambassador said evenly, "We Ghosts do have a propensity for worshipping that which destroys us, it is true. But you are not yet a goddess, Sample 5A43."

  Donn said sharply, "Enough. Eve, you said how the Seer's thinking feels. How can you know that?"

  "Ah. Good question. Because, not for the first time, the Ghosts had trouble with an AI that ended up not performing quite as specified."

  "Like the Silverman."

  "Well, yes. And, not for the first time, I, or an avatar of myself, was asked to help interpret for it." She looked at Donn, her gray hair shining in the light of the stellar core. "It sees the future, Donn. And it is afraid."

  * * *

  Donn watched Eve. Her eyes were unfocused, and he thought her representation was degrading, her skin smoothing from lack of definition, a lock of her gray hair flickering. He wondered how it must be to be her, a representation every bit as sentient as he was, and yet having endured multiple lives already—and now locked into a consciousness like no other.

  She said, "The Seer is sentient, born of dust into a baffling, acausal universe. But it is a Ghost artifact. And so it shares Ghost values, Ghost assumptions. The Ghosts survived the death of their world through symbiosis, dissimilar life-forms gathering together. The Ghosts have faith that the life-forms of this era of the universe, a transient age of light-and water-based chemistry, will similarly use cooperation and symbiosis to survive the transition to the new cold age to come when the last star dies."

  Five shuddered. "How can you think like that?"

  "This has happened already, in the universe's history," Eve said. "There are life-forms extant now, in this age of matter, that are survivors of earlier epochs, the age of radiation and of annihilation and of superforces and of—"

  "Enough," Donn said. Her speech had become rapid, automated, as if she was hypnotized. "Go on, Eve."

  "But when this age ends, when dark energy comes to predominate and the fabric of space-time is torn apart-when this happens, and the Seer can see it-there will be no Ghost left alive to witness it, and no symbiotic descendant of the Ghosts."

  "Why not?"

  "Because of us," said Five savagely. "Because of humans. We win. I don't need a quantum-gravity computer to tell me that!"

  "You must understand," the Ambassador said. "The detonation of this sun-we do this because we, this Ghost enclave, have been cut off from our home range by the forces of your Coalition. Billions of individuals, a whole world, trapped behind the lines. We were desperate. We looked for a way to change the parameters-the rules of the game. That is our way of resolving problems. We were looking for a way out. Now we see we must do more than that; we must take the Seer and its dre
adful counsel to our home ranges. We need time to consider what must be done."

  "Such as what?" Five asked.

  "Such as escape."

  Escape to where? Donn wondered. Where could the Ghosts go to escape a rampant, Coalition-led mankind? Out of the Galaxy? Out of the cosmos altogether? He tried to focus on his own situation. "Then why have you brought us here? Why tell us this?"

  "Because of me," said the Silverman. He stepped forward, still cradling the Seer. "You made me smart to punish me. But I am human enough to guess how you would feel about an exploding star."

  The Ambassador said, "We did not mean to engineer this star as an act of war, only as a means of escape. We understand now that humans might not see it that way."

  "You really don't get human psychology, do you?" Donn said.

  "No," said the Silverman cheerfully. "Donn Wyman, you must warn your people. Make them believe, as we could not. Make them flee. And make them believe the Ghosts did not mean war."

  "That's a tall order."

  "You are our only hope," the Ghost said simply.

  Donn felt empty. Could it be true that so much was pivoting on this moment? Because if so, he thought, I am not strong enough to deal with it.

  "You don't have much time," said the Ambassador. It floated toward the lip of the platform.

  Donn followed and looked down at the engineered moon. Ghosts swarmed, pinpricks of dazzling light against the worked regolith. "How long?"

  "The mathematics is uncertain."

  "There are human colonies scattered through the Association," Donn said. "Many of them have hyperdrive, I think. But the main human concentration is the Reef. And we no longer have hyperdrive."

  "Ask your father," the Ambassador said.

  "What?"

  "I, too, approved of the Silverman's wish to contact you personally, Donn Wyman. Because I know that your family has resources. We will send you home now, Donn Wyman."

  They pulled back and stood in a row, the Silverman with the tetrahedral box, the looming Ghost, and the Virtual of Eve, gradually disintegrating.

  Eve raised her hand. "There is more," she said solemnly. "Human and Ghosts must both join the great confluence of mind in the far future, join with the rest. That is the only way the next transition can be survived by either of us."

  Donn was shocked by this latest bit of bad news. "And if humans destroy the Ghosts-"

  "Then neither will survive. Remember," she said, her voice scratchy. "Remember—"

  Five ran toward the Silverman, who stood stock-still, slow to react. She raised her fists and slammed them down on the Seer. Her hands passed through its substance, scattering pixels.

  Donn pulled her away.

  "Just an avatar," she said, breathless. "Worth a try. To strike such a blow… it would have been magnificent."

  The Ghost and its companions were surrounded by a cloud of pixels now. The star's light flickered.

  And Donn was home.

  * * *

  His mother ran up to him and grabbed him. "Oh, Lethe, Donn! I never thought I'd see you again!" He let her weep on his shoulder. "Benj is back, too," she whispered. "He's back!"

  Donn saw Five, still in her bloodstained Ghost-hide suit, looking even more scared and bewildered than in the center of the star. There was Samm, his father, grinning hugely, grabbing onto Benj as hard as his mother was to Donn. The Commissary, Elah, was here, too. She looked as shocked as any of them at Donn's sudden appearance, but she was looking up into the sky with some alarm and muttering into the air, evidently communicating with her Coalition colleagues.

  Donn couldn't resist grinning at his brother. Benj was wearing a plain white bathrobe; all his hair had been shaved off. "Benj, what happened to you?"

  "I've been a stark naked lab rat for a day. If it was you who got me out—"

  "It was. You owe me."

  "Damn."

  There were twin concussions, soft explosions, and a breeze of displaced air. Hama Belk and Kanda Fors had coalesced, under the lifedome. Grubby, scrawny, they both staggered in the sudden change of gravity, and they clung to each other in shock. Then they realized where they were, and their clinging turned to a hug of joy.

  Then Hama spotted Elah in her black Commissary's robe, and he went over to her immediately.

  Donn gently disengaged his mother. "Mom—you have guests."

  Rima turned. "Do I know you?"

  Kanda, recovering her composure quickly, came forward. "Kanda Fors. Food tech, from the Michael Poole. We met a couple of times, I think… I've been lost for a number of years."

  "It's a day of shocks for us all." Rima stepped forward, and the women clasped hands. Rima's face tattoos flared electric blue, and Donn was proud of her.

  Amid more concussions, more of the ragged rats from Ghostworld started to appear, many naked, bewildered. One woman cradled a baby.

  Donn took Five by the hand and led her to his mother. "Mom, this one's called Five. Long story. I think she'd appreciate some help, her and her people. Some clothes, for a start." But Five flinched back. "She's been living wild," Donn murmured. "It will take some time."

  "We've all the time in the world. Come, child. And, Kanda, you'll be wanting to tell your family you're back?"

  "I feel nervous about it. Yes, of course."

  "And you—Five, was it? What about your family?"

  "I don't remember them."

  "I'm sure we can trace them. Come on, we'll sort it out."

  Donn approached his father. "Dad, I need to talk to you. We're in trouble. The Boss—"

  "I know. Look at this." He showed Donn an image, returned by faster-than-light inseparability links from a Coalition drone observer close to the giant star. It was spitting, flaring, ejecting knots of plasma large enough to swallow Earth's sun whole. "It's becoming unstable."

  "It's worse than that." As urgently as he could, he told his father all he had witnessed, the Ghost experiments at the heart of the Boss—the coming supernova. Samm listened gravely.

  "You do believe me?"

  "Of course I believe you."

  "As do we," Elah said, walking over.

  Hama followed in her wake. Though he was just as grimy and underfed, he didn't seem to Donn to be the same person he had been on the Ghostworld; he had immediately retreated into his role, like a shadow of the Commissary.

  "What you say," Elah went on, "ties in with the projections we have been making of the star's instability."

  Samm folded his arms. "You say you're here to protect us, you of the Coalition. What are you going to do about this?"

  "We have already put out a warning to the other human colonies in the Association. Most of them have hyperdrive ships; they will be able to flee in time. Other Coalition centers are arranging refugee facilities."

  "Blankets and hot water. Great. But what about us? You know damn well the Reef contains the largest human population in the Association. You took away our hyperdrives!"

  "In order to serve the greater needs of the Third Expansion."

  "That star's going to expand before long, and cook us all. Going to give us back our technology, are you?"

  "That isn't practical," Elah said simply. She listened absently. "Come," she said to Hama. "The flitters are lifting Coalition personnel from the Reef in fifteen minutes."

  "And us?" Samm tried to grab her arm, but she shook him off. "What of us? You're leaving us to die!"

  From nowhere, Elah produced a handgun, a starbreaker. "This conversation is over, regrettably." Backing up, she and Hama made for the door cut into the lifedome.

  Samm made to follow, but Donn stopped him. "Dad, let me. Wait, Commissary." Cautiously, he approached Elah and Hama. In a few rushed words, he tried to tell them more of what the Ghost had told him within the star.

  "The Ghosts don't want this to be seen as an act of war."

  "Then they shouldn't detonate supernovas in human space," Elah said.

  "They're only doing it to escape the cage we put them in."r />
  "They put humans in cages. Your friend Five, Hama here."

  "They fear we will drive them to extinction. That's what the Seer foresees. And if that's so, we may destroy ourselves as well."

  Elah thought that over. "Better a Galaxy in ruins," she said, "than a Galaxy that is not ruled by us. Good luck, Donn Wyman." She backed to the door, and left. Hama looked back once, but it was as if he barely recognized Donn anymore, and he followed his superior.

  Donn went back to his father. "I failed."

  "Well, what did you expect? You aren't going to overturn an ideology like the Coalition's with a couple of sentences. But the Commission for Historical Truth records everything that transfixes-everything. Maybe they will figure all this out one day, after a couple of thousand years' study in some library on Earth—maybe you planted a few seeds for the future. In the meantime, we've a supernova to deal with." Samm eyed his son. "So, did your new Ghost best buddy give you any advice?"

  "It said I should ask you."

  Samm sighed. "Smart of it. Okay, son. I guess it's time you learned a little family history." Carrying his data slate, he walked off toward the copse at the center of the dome, chlorophyll green leaves shining under the light of the burgeoning supernova.

  Donn hurried after him. "Where are we going?"

  "The engine room."

  * * *

  The kilometer-long elevator descent along the ship's spine was slow, frustrating.

  Donn knew his way around the control room at the heart of the Miriam's GUTdrive pod. He used to come down here as a kid, to play with his brother, and later, as a young man, to learn about the technological legacy of his mother's family. There wasn't much to see: a couple of seats and couches, a water dispenser, an emergency pressurized locker. The instruments were blank, antique data slates tiling the walls. All around this space, vast engines brooded, capable of harnessing the energies of cosmic inflation to drive the ship forward. But the engines hadn't been fired up in Donn's lifetime, not once.