Exodus: Machine War: Book 3: Death From Above

by Doug Dandridge

  “We’ll be careful too,” said Rear Admiral Sonya Halliday, Mara’s second in command, who had her flag on the Black Prince. “And thanks for asking.”

  Mara smiled as she looked at the large woman, just under a hundred and ninety centimeters, who had come up as a ship commander under the then Rear Admiral Montgomery. She had no concerns about Sonya, who was both smart and audacious. Or as few concerns as she could have for any of her subordinates who were going into harm’s way.

  “Okay. So once you fix them, get the word to the rest of us and we’ll be there as soon as possible.”

  They knew more or less the path the enemy would be taking, but there was no guarantee they would take the most direct path. They might have detoured after leaving the industrial system where Hillary had spotted them. Rendezvoused with other ships, stopped to pick up resources. A thousand possibilities. They would probably still follow the general track, but they could be light years to either side. Hence the need to find them and fix their course so the rest of the force could shadow and harass them. She still didn’t think they could do much to the planet killers, however many there were. But they could take out a lot of escorting vessels if they played it smart.

  All of her ships were packed to the gills with hyper capable missiles. Not just magazines, but hangars and cargo holds. The craft that normally rode in the hangers had been left behind. There was really no need for fighters and assault shuttles on a mission like this, and each of the ships light cruiser and above carried at least one hyper capable shuttle. Those shuttles could be pooled for boarding operations if needed, otherwise they would be used to move people and things between ships.

  The nausea struck as the Washington moved up into hyper VII. The helm started to pile on the acceleration, until they were up to five hundred gravities, on the heading most likely to intersect the course of the enemy. Every ship in her wing accelerated at the same rate, keeping formation, while the other two groups started to diverge.

  “Let’s do this,” she said into the com, then got up from her seat. “I’ll be in my quarters.” The flag crew looked at her, the Tactical Officer nodding. They would not disturb her unless necessary. She had been up over thirty hours, planning this mission, briefing the wing staff, squadron leaders and ship captains. She was beat, and in a little over six days she would probably be looking at a week or more of little rest and hurried meals.

  The Marine guard at her cabin hatch saluted as she approached. She returned with a hasty salute, overriding her desire to just get in her quarters and away from anyone. Military discipline was there for a reason, and far be it for her to start talk going about the old lady not following protocol. Her dining room table was set with a meal, the delicious odor of a roast, potatoes and vegetables rising into the air. Mara felt almost too tired to eat. Almost. But her steward had gone all out to make sure she had something to eat that she liked, and her body would need the fuel, so she sat down at the table and dug in, her appetite rising as she took the first couple of bites.

  Fifteen minutes later she let the hot water of a shower wash over her, feeling the relaxation work its way into her muscles. Her body felt exhausted, her mind was still on overdrive thinking about all the things that could go wrong with her attacks. The images of disaster were still with her after she changed into her nightclothes and crawled into her comfortable bed. In ages past she might have suffered the malady of many commanders, unable to sleep while exhaustion eroded her abilities. With a thought her implant sent the signal to her reticular activating system, and she was sound asleep in seconds.

  * * *

  “As you can see, your Majesty, this construct is quite large,” said the civilian engineer who was the lead researcher on the captured planet killer. Another scientist was lead on the project to gain information on the Machine AI they had captured, while numerous other people were looking into everything else they could discover about the Machines. “It measures twenty kilometers from end to end, and is eight kilometers at its widest extent. Being a graviton projector, and due to the fact that gravitons can penetrate any amount of matter, the business end was under the thickness of the armor, making it almost impossible to take out.”

  “And is it something we can use?” asked Sean, his holographic body sitting the chair at the end of the table.

  It still amazed Bednarczyk that they could communicate like this over more than three thousand light years. The Universe was changing, and the Admiral, while not sure she could approve of all the changes, knew that they were entering interesting times.

  “It’s really too large to mount in anything besides a fortress, and even then it would take up most of the space inside, for little return. As far as we can tell, it’s just too damned weak to be of any use outside of pushing ships out of hyperspace.”

  Which meant it would not be of any use in battles fought in normal space, like most were, within the gravity well of stars.

  “Remember though, your Majesty, that the Machines are at least two centuries behind us in most technologies,” said Fleet Admiral Chuntoa Chan, the Director of Fleet Research and Development, and considered one of the top minds in the Empire. “We could probably design something a fifth of the mass with the same power.”

  Bednarczyk nodded in agreement. She had come up through engineering before switching to the tactical track that was the most common path to ship command and above. Many people thought the Machines were so intelligent, since they could crunch numbers, run probabilities and work through decision trees ten thousand times faster than a human. But they lacked the insight, the gestalt, and they would never experience the Eureka moment of a sentient organic. And while they could sort probabilities faster than ten thousand humans, they were not even on the same level of magnitude as ten thousand organic researchers. They could build things they knew, even rearrange things somewhat, but they tended to use a brute force approach to making things. They had probably found the design for the graviton projector from a ship they had captured, or maybe some ruins of a defunct civilization. And then did the best with it that they could.

  “Would it be of any use to us?” asked Sean again, his holographic head turning toward the image of Admiral Chan, who was scores of light years from his location. “I mean, while it might be a really interesting experimental project, will we be able to use it in combat?”

  “Maybe,” said Chan, shrugging her shoulders. “Maybe not in the near term, but in the far? Possibly.”

  “I would think it only useful to ambush the Machines, or possibly the Cacas,” said Sondra McCullom, another holographic figure at the table. “And how many times would we get away with that? How many ships would we have to build to have enough around at the same time to produce an effect?”

  “It could still prove useful as a fleet missile defense in hyper,” said Chan, obviously not willing to let this discovery get away from her and the people who worked under her. “We could screen our force with a couple of score light cruisers equipped with our miniaturized version of this thing, and drop waves of their missiles out of hyper.”

  “Okay,” said Sean with a smile. “Go ahead and play with it, and see what you can develop.” The Emperor’s expression turned serious just then and he waved a finger at his tech witch. “But don’t let this distract you from getting the other things ready. I want those things ready as soon as possible.”

  Beata had to wonder what those things were, but she understood the concept of need to know. If something new was in the offing, and it might be of benefit to her and her command, she would find out soon enough. Probably right after it was approved for deployment.

  “So,” said Sean, looking at Bednarczyk over steepled fingers. “What else to we know about these things? Have we figured out an easier way to destroy them?”

  “We still have parties examining the planet killer, your Majesty. I have three thousand Marines, a couple of thousand spacers, and even some three hundred civilians knocking around in it. It’s still dangerous in there, henc
e the Marines. We’re still running into some combat robots, and quite a few maintenance bots that can also prove a hazard for the unwary. We have found some large compartments that seem to be factory units, filled with hundreds of fabbers. The planet killers can manufacture whatever they need on the spot, as long as they have the proper materials. They lacked stores of supermetals, and so couldn’t make many more missiles than what they had on board. We’ve also explored some of their missile magazines, empty of course. But from their size, and the size of their missiles, we have a pretty good idea how many they carried.”

  “And the fabbers?” asked Chan in an excited voice. “Did the units have processors and memory modules?”

  “Thinking of duplicating some of their robots?” asked Sondra, a worried look on her face.

  “Heavens no, Admiral,” said Chan, her hands flying up to her mouth. “We don’t need more of the damned things infecting the Universe. But if we had all the plans for their hardware, we could work out the best ways to fight them.”

  “Unfortunately, all of the computer controls for the fabber units were trashed,” said Bednarczyk with a head shake.

  “It’s amazing that only its central control could self-destruct the ship,” said Chan. “It was a failure to consider the possibility that the processor might be cut off from control of the ship, such as happened. I think we were very lucky here, because they are sure to remedy that shortcoming in the future.”

  “Admiral Chan has developed some weapons we think you might find useful in the next battle, Admiral,” said McCullom, glancing at Chan, then looking at Bednarczyk. “Admiral.”

  A holo sprung to life over the table, showing a long cone shaped object. Just how long it was became apparent when a battleship was displayed next to it for scale. It was two kilometers long, tapering from a a five hundred meter wide base to twenty meter wide point. A stem stretched for two hundred meters past the base, covered with grabber units.

  “What in the hell is that?” asked Admiral Henare, leaning forward to stare at the thing.

  “Behold, the planet killer torpedo,” said Chan, waving a hand at the weapon. “Only useful in normal space, since it has no hyperfield generator. It will be carried by a capital ship, battleship or battle cruiser, and released outside of laser range of a planet killer. From there its grabber units will propel it forward at six hundred gravities. It has fusion reactors inside, a bunch of them, powering the grabbers and its electromagnetic screen.”

  “And how does it kill the big Machine?” asked Henare, not able to take his eyes off the strange looking thing.

  “It’s really just a huge kinetic penetrator,” replied Chan. “It masses eight million tons of alloys, ceramics and carbon fibers, with another two million tons of machinery and power plants. It kills by striking the surface of the Machine and smashing through the armor.”

  “What kind of warhead?” asked Bednarczyk.

  “Type I has no warhead at all, and will be used to soften the target,” said Chan. “It’s thought that the missile has a better chance of getting to the target without the danger of a breaching warhead. Type II carries a hundred gigaton warhead, not all that powerful considering the target. But still enough to cause considerable damage as it punches through the armor.”

  “If you hit the planet killer with a number of these you should be able to kill it with wormhole launched missiles,” said McCullom.

  Should? thought Beata, frowning. It was an untested weapon, which might win a battle, or could turn out to be a fiasco.

  “You know these planet killers mount lasers that can take out a battleship with one hit?” she asked Chan, fixing the holographic image with her glare. “How well do you think these, torpedoes, will fare against that firepower.”

  “We believe they will be able to handle fifteen continuous seconds of fire from one of their mega-lasers, Admiral,” said Chan. “That, of course, is the missile without a warhead. The type II will most likely breach after absorbing eight seconds of fire.”

  “And they will have to traverse a light minute of laser range to get to the ships,” growled Beata. “How do you propose we get them across that distance.”

  “That is what we pay you for, Admiral,” said Sean with a smile. “We just give you the ships and the weapons. It’s up to you to come up with the tactical genius to use them effectively.”

  Wonderful, thought Bednarczyk. If the weapons work, Chan has come up with another brilliant system. If they don’t, I didn’t use them correctly.

  “You will send the brain to Admiral Chan’s lab,” said Sean in a tone that brooked no argument. “I know your scientists there will be disappointed, but her people are much better prepared to study it. And I have a feeling we don’t have much time to get all we can out of it.”

  Bednarczyk nodded. It would disappoint her people, who were looking forward to the fame and notoriety that would come with the papers they could get from this discovery. But Sean’s word was law, and at least she could deflect the blame onto him when the scientists complained.

  “Okay,” said Sean, his figure standing up from its seat. “I think we’ve gotten a lot accomplished here today. I have a meeting with members of Parliament, and believe me I would much rather be talking with the people in this conference than that collection of…” He left it off there with a sheepish smile on his face. A moment later his figure flickered and was gone, soon followed by Admirals McCullom and Chan.

  “Well,” said Henare, also attending by holo, if not at quite the distance as the Monarch, CNO and R and D head. “I guess we know what help we are going to get. Not that I’m complaining, but I would prefer another battle fleet to some huge darts that might or might not do anything.”

  Benardczyk had to agree with her subordinate, but it was not for her to comment in front of those under her command. That was probably the roughest part of commanding, at any level. There were very few opportunities to vent when you were at the top. But she found herself agreeing with the man. Another battle fleet would be a welcome addition to her command, though she wasn’t sure even that would be enough to stop four or more planet killers.

  Chapter Nineteen

  If you want to solve very complex problems, you will have to end up letting machines work out a lot of the details for themselves, and in ways that we don't understand what they are doing. Joshua Lederberg

  UNEXPLORED SPACE BETWEEN BOLTHOLE AND MACHINE TERRITORY.

  “We are picking up another ship approaching the system,” said the Ship Master of the twelve million ton flagship.

  “Another of the artificial life form vessels?” asked Fleet Leader Goran, looking at the icon that had just appeared on the plot.

  “It is giving off a resonance such as I have never before heard, my Lord,” said the Fleet Sensor Master. “It appears to be moving in a dimension above those we can access.”

  “That’s…” Goran was about to say impossible, but the theorists said it was anything but. That they had met no species that could attain the higher dimension didn’t mean there weren’t any out there. And if they could gain the secret from these newcomers, they would have an advantage over the artificial life forms.

  “What should we do, my Lord?” asked the Ship Master.

  “Nothing. All ships are to lay doggo until this ship enters the system.”

  “And then?”

  The Fleet Leader had to think for a moment. The original plan had been to follow the artificial life forms, to see why they had left what appeared to a victory over his people to go on another mission. What mission had been the question? Unfortunately, the artificial life forms had taken offense at being followed, and had sent group after group of ships after his force to stop them from following. Then they had turned their entire force and came after his fleet. Disaster. They had been able to break off the action and retreat, and the artificial life forms had left them, moving out of range. They had left him with a mere hundred and twenty-three battleships out of the five hundred he had originally ta
ken from his space. He had suffered a proportionate loss of his cruisers and escort vessels, now having less than a thousand ships.

  It has been a total disaster since we left our Empire, thought Goran, his tail swishing back and forth in agitation. He would not be surprised to be relieved of his position, retiring in shame to his estates, while another Lord had the honor of leading the fleet, what was left of it. If he made it back. And if the Dictator was in a merciful mood.

  What they had discovered in this system was of interest, if not vital to his species’ survival. There were wrecks of spaceships, what they had determined were easily a half millennia more primitive than their own. Sources of radiation

  “The ship is jumping into hyper VI, still on a course for this system,” reported the Sensor Master.

  “Tight beam only to all ships,” ordered Goran. “All are to lay quiet until I give the order. No emissions.”

  If any ship commander went against those orders they would be executed. Not that it was likely to do the fleet any good if this thing was hostile and picked them up at a distance. At least it would discourage others from doing the same, for all the good it would do them at that point. It was a fatalistic attitude, but the way things had been going the last couple of weeks, it was the only attitude the Fleet Leader could have.

  * * *

  “We’ll go into the first jump in five minutes, ma’am,” said the Helm.

  Commander Roberta Matthews acknowledged the notification as she looked at the system ahead on the plot. They had been pursuing a dogleg path since their encounter with the Machine graviton ships, heading at a forty five degree angle for two days, then back onto a direct path for Bolthole, adding three days onto their trip, but making it less likely that the Machine ships might ambush them. She had ordered the ship to jump back into normal space to get a quick check of their surroundings, and had picked up the signals of some sentient species. It had quickly been determined that this was a species they had not contacted before, and command had agreed that they should check it out, carefully.