Spinebreakers

by Mitch Michaelson

  The gel was a computer processor with no thought of its own. The cylindrical robots manipulated it into the correct position. Once the processor was wrapped around the subject’s spine and touched the autonomic parts of his brain, they were ready. The blue substance linked to his central nervous system.

  Suspended in air, Steo curled into a fetal position. Ema held him in place for his own safety and listened to the chirping robots as they gave updates. The robots were done with the install, but they assisted his body’s reaction, calming it while it adjusted to what amounted to a new organ.

  Fortunately his brain didn’t struggle with the connection. It adapted. His brain and the new ‘brain’ grew together. Synapses transmitted electrochemical signals in wildly increasing numbers, surpassing what would normally be an overload. His genetic code transformed to match. Molecule chains resequenced to record the addition to his nervous system.

  As his shock subsided, he visibly calmed down. As the regenerative drugs encouraged growth, his body coped with the new organ. Instead of fighting it, his body protected it. His breathing and heart rate slowed. His muscles relaxed. He floated in a calmer state.

  He fell into a dream.

  He felt.

  It was no longer pain, though. The ache in his chest was gone. His limbs were his own and he breathed. He swam in a lightless void. No stars or instruments were visible, revealing where he was. His eyes were open and while he saw nothing he knew it was no trick of light.

  Yet he felt. The forces of the universe could be felt and he was the first human to do so.

  He sensed things new and inexplicable. Currently inexplicable, he realized. The universe was becoming clearer every second, its ways more obvious. Assumptions fell away, replaced by facts once mysterious. Similar theories formed into cohesive principles. These were hypotheses he had studied and learned but never been able to unite before. It was so obvious.

  So that’s why tachyon particles travel like that, he thought.

  When he was young, a security barrier in the first corporate computer network he’d hacked into had stumped him. He’d gotten in by luck, but had always been bothered by the difficulty. Now he saw the answer.

  It was a fractal defense … a nearly infinite recursion, he thought. Nothing is really infinite, though. If I see it again, I’ll walk right through it. He smiled to himself.

  He knew the fundamental forces: electromagnetic, gravitational, nuclear and something else. That something was beyond his reach, a force only detectable as existing, but remaining ever elusive. His curiosity got the better of him and he looked deep into the darkness, wondering about this force. Terror swamped his mind. In the blackness of the void, where nothing was, a place where nothing could be, something looked back. Steo couldn’t make out features but he sensed starving malignancy.

  He backed up. The presence might have noticed him. Steo felt like it might pursue. His heart raced and he ran. He fled from it, as if he could run far enough, though he knew he couldn’t. Scared that it might find him and catch him, he turned his eyes away. He stopped being curious, and focused on something simpler, the local electromagnetic field. The malignancy receded, far into the distance, as if it thought it saw something but no, it was a trick of its imagination.

  In the local electromagnetic field, Steo found comfort. He heard thoughts and feelings of people he knew. His friends and robots were nearby, healing and being repaired. He could detect other beings, the alien Gleen, but their thoughts were shielded from him by helmets and self-discipline. There was an unsettling feeling farther away, though. When he focused on it, the feeling became sorrow and mourning. Below the titanic Gleen ship, a planet burned. Its land shook. Lava spat into the sky. Oceans boiled. Death had come to Lazuria 27.

  Then Steo did more than feel or sense. He remembered. Black rage threatened to blot out reason. Senseless brutality! Casual killing in the name of ideals! Rationalized war for false purity! Steo was more than unhappy, he burned with fury. He knew the killers. His mind reached out and he sensed the path they had taken. Thoughts of punishment and revenge made him shake. Rage was a natural reaction.

  He imagined himself on a throne, his eyes glowing with a light that judged and burned those who failed. His reach was far, stretching the length of the galaxy and possibly beyond. A human empire answered to him and he was its Emperor. Countless people were before him; their lives and their thoughts were his. Control was there, all he had to do was reach out and take it. Everything would be fixed. He was smart enough to do it, far smarter than anyone before him.

  Almost.

  His attention was drawn to a little planet on the outskirts of the Tarium spiral arm, called Zivang. There in a wasteland sat a lost city, once populated by hopeful people. A people who wished only the best for mankind. Peace, prosperity, knowledge … they had the highest ideals. Then Steo saw what happened when they gained the power to make it happen.

  They first indulged in scientific experimentation, starting with cybernetic enhancements, replacing parts that were perfectly functional. They researched drugs and biological replacement parts. People volunteered and they died. Their numbers dwindled, but they continued. Finally in their mad rush to answer all of mankind’s problems, they created a bluish gel that acted as a superprocessor. Many smaller discrete processors existed within it, and it could do wondrous things. Artificial intelligence didn’t appear though. No machine sentience developed. Nothing magical happened. So the remaining people used the liquid processors like cybernetics, implanted into the human body. Superintelligence exploded in their minds.

  Then they fell. The people of Zivang sacrificed themselves to technology and succumbed to aberrant insanity. They had no cultural framework to understand or cope with the power they had given themselves, and their race ended. The last died out quickly, leaving only empty buildings. Over time, their city crumbled and their experiments rusted away.

  Steo saw all this and traced how it came to him. Renosha was being repaired in a bay nearby. Steo saw the march of history. He saw how he knew all this: he wasn’t actually looking at Zivang, but information in the Gleen ship computer. Long ago the Gleen had become aware of the experiment on Zivang and had moved to stop it. They intended to destroy the city and all of its inhabitants, but by the time they arrived the deed was already done: the people there had self-destructed.

  Steo wasn’t the first to have the processor installed, nor was he the smartest. Men with powerful intellects had assumed that they could use it. They failed.

  The sadness of Zivang and the horror of Lazuria 27 mingled. Humanity had made many mistakes before. They would make many more.

  He stood on a precipice. In his dream he looked at his hands. Domination was in his right hand and vengeance was in his left. A choice was before him. He opened his hands and let both fall. They disappeared into the darkness. He grew tired and lay down, falling into a recuperative sleep.

  CHAPTER 39

  Awakening

  When Yuina woke up in her quarters, she found the ship silent. She didn’t remember how she got there, only the last minutes as they left the atmosphere.

  When they had pulled away from the planet’s orbit, all the holes weren’t filled yet. Air whistled out and pressure dropped. As the engines failed, internal gravity also ceased. Yuina saw that she was in the safest position, the pilot’s seat. It was already starting to descend from the ceiling. All she had to do was nothing, and the ship would protect her. In the bedlam, she saw her friend Glaikis float up off the floor and bump her head hard against the ceiling. Yuina jumped free, launching herself from the chair. The upper half of the shell stopped. Yuina grabbed Glaikis, and with great effort maneuvered her down into the pilot’s seat. Gasping for lack of air and her muscles cramping, she hit the button that made the shell close. Then she felt cold, and passed out.

  Here she was waking up under her covers, in fresh clothes, without a bump or bruise. She remembered one other fleeting thing, a sense of someone talking to her. A fee
ling of being cared for. It certainly wasn’t her mother, but it felt like what a nurturing parent might be like.

  She got up and left her quarters. The halls were silent. The bridge was empty. No one was in the pilot’s chair. Yuina tapped a button and saw everyone on board was safe and sound. She sat in the chair and brought the panels up. They were floating a short distance from the burning planet. Nothing moved in the solar system.

  Sounds came from the corridor.

  “Yes, Navigator Glaikis, I do believe there was more than one. At least six by my count,” Hawking said. “Their personal armor was splendid.”

  Glaikis and Hawking walked into the bridge. Yuina got up out of her chair and faced them, unsure what to say. Glaikis walked forward and hugged her so hard, she lifted the slim tirrian off the floor.

  “Hawking said you saved me.” Glaikis set her down.

  Sheepishly Yuina said, “I was scared! I never had a friend before. That was new to me. I couldn’t let my friend just die.”

  “I won’t forget this,” Glaikis said. “On my world, we remember life-debts.”

  Yuina kissed her on the head and pushed her toward her station. “We better get to work before the captain wakes up.”

  Yeah. I have a feeling this isn’t over.”

  Renosha woke in engineering. As soon as his startup was complete, he ignored system checks and reached out with his mind. Everyone was alive. The people were waking up. Hawking and Governor were telling the people what had happened.

  That’s when Renosha realized he remembered too. The first meeting with the Gleen had been wiped from his memory. He had offered his complete memory for them to copy, which Ema appreciated. This time there wasn’t a nearby planet with a developing species they needed to protect, so she allowed the robots to retain their memories.

  Before he left the Gleen ship, Ema spoke with him. She advised the robot that Steo’s processor was properly installed now, and he might be unsteady for a while. Now more than ever the young man-thing needed friends around him. From her guarded tones and body language, Renosha sensed that something had changed. The Gleen were more animated than usual, as if a mission lay before them and they were anxious to get about it.

  Renosha ran diagnostics and found himself intact. He left engineering. Along the way he probed Steo’s state-of-mind. The young man was waking up. While he seemed calm, there was an aura of raw potential about him. The young human simmered with an ill temper, no doubt caused by the deadly attack, but he held it in check. A need filled Steo. Action was about to be taken. There would not be time for discussion.

  “I think that’s three times the Eye of Orion has been nearly destroyed and repaired,” Governor said to Cyrus. They waited in Steo’s quarters for their captain to awaken.

  “Is that normal?” Cyrus asked.

  “Sir, once isn’t normal.”

  “Then we have something in common. The Eye of Orion and Cyrus Majeure: we both look good after near-death experiences.”

  Steo sat up. Cyrus furrowed his tan brow. “You don’t look so good though.”

  “Thanks for noticing,” Steo said. Governor floated over to him.

  “I’m fine.” Steo waved Governor’s hand away.

  “Grumpy,” Governor said. “That’s always a sure sign that he’s recovering.”

  Steo stood up but wobbled. The door beeped and opened, revealing Renosha.

  Steo said, “Please gather everyone in the holobridge.” He left and everyone followed.

  Behind him Governor said, “Everyone has recovered, in case you were wondering, sir.”

  “I know.”

  When they came to the bridge, he saw there was no space traffic in the vicinity, no ships of any kind. Destruction was widespread. He was reminded of something Slank had said back on Nibs, that he left a wake behind him.

  Everyone followed him into the holobridge.

  “Prepare for jump,” he said.

  “Where to, Captain?” Glaikis said.

  “We’re going to save those people.”

  “What people, Captain?” Cyrus said.

  “The people on the AndroVault.” He left no doubt in his tone of voice that he was serious.

  CHAPTER 40

  Faster Than Light

  The AndroVault sat next to an enormous superplanet – a gas giant, colored red with swirling gold streaks.

  Around the planet rotated a strand of artificial satellites, strung together by tethers. There were hundreds of the nodule-satellites connected in a band around the planet. Some of them were clusters of orbs built together in no apparent pattern. The tethers between the satellites were cables, each hundreds of miles long and hundreds of feet thick.

  The nodules were empty. Explorers had discovered them before and ascertained that they could support life, if they were powered up and refreshed with gases. There were hypotheses that the nodules were similar to the odd ships of the plenum, which were also clusters of orbs. The string of satellites orbited the large red and gold superplanet, forgotten by whoever had built them.

  The fleet was dispersed around that part of the solar system, all near enough to communicate quickly. No further reinforcements arrived, and repairs were almost complete. They sat dormant, gathering energy for the long jump to the Tarium spiral arm.

  Lord Muuk had settled into a large room within the bioark – the chamber in which he had met Councilor Ulay for the first time. He had wall panels installed so that he could command the fleet from the room.

  “I don’t like your tone, Lord Muuk,” said a mercenary commander from the bridge of his ship, the frigate Cloudburst. “We came to join and fight. We do that for credits and slaves. We didn’t come for your holy war. We’re not getting rid of our non-human crewmembers!”

  “You shall serve, or you shall be made to serve,” Lord Muuk said.

  “Is that a threat? We don’t take to threats, you twisted old ass. I can leave anytime I want. I’m captain of the Cloudburst!”

  “Then I think it’s time for a change in leadership.”

  A fight broke out in the Cloudburst’s bridge. The mercenary captain drew his pistol. The transmission ended.

  Lord Muuk turned to a lieutenant. “In case our men don’t take the Cloudburst, send shuttles with boarding parties. If you find aliens, jettison them. All humans will take a loyalty oath to the AndroVault and myself as its duly appointed leader, or they will follow the aliens out the hatch. Go.”

  The lieutenant saluted and left. His left leg was badly bent, so he didn’t move fast.

  Suddenly an unexpected transmission arrived. Steo’s face was on the panel. Lord Muuk’s jaw dropped.

  “Attention. This is Steorathan Liet, captain of the Eye of Orion. If you fire on us, you will die. I repeat, you can’t defeat us. I’m giving you a chance to leave with your lives. This war is over.”

  Lord Muuk reacted quicker this time. “Shoot! Kill them!”

  “Sir, that message didn’t transmit,” an assistant said.

  “What? Why?”

  “Our signals are jammed by the Eye of Orion.”

  “Then override them! We have more power!” Lord Muuk shouted like a lunatic.

  “Our sensors and antennae are old in comparison, my Lord. If we just push more energy through them, they’ll burn out!”

  Lord Muuk rushed over and struck the man repeatedly.

  The bridge of the Eye of Orion was quiet. Everyone nervously waited. The ship remained still, near the red and gold gas giant.

  Steo had locked himself in the holobridge during the flight, working on something that chewed up a lot of the ship’s processing power. Everyone wanted to talk to him, but they attended to their duties. They had entered the system, transmitted the message and sat in the open, as ordered.

  The door to the holobridge opened and Steo came out.

  “Sir,” Glaikis said, “What if they fire?”

  “The message was their warning. Their lives are in their own hands.”

  “Fire!” sho
uted the new captain of the Cloudburst. He and several other awakened had offered to join the frigate’s crew for the experience, an offer the captain had accepted as long as they worked for free. When given the order, they staged a coup.

  The Cloudburst disappeared in a savage blast. The missiles hadn’t left their launch tubes.

  Two other ships, mostly crewed by awakened, also burst apart, their entire missile capacity going off at once.

  Lord Muuk watched as the ships exploded, bright globes on his wall panels indicating the deaths of hundreds of men. There were no signs of missiles headed toward the little corvette.

  “Override the jamming signal! Do it!” He drew his pistol and waved it erratically.

  He debated whether he should tell them to attack or just flee. Something caused the ships to explode.

  “Several ships are moving toward us, Captain,” Yuina said.

  “Prepare for an FTL jump.”

  “Coordinates?” Glaikis asked.

  They popped up on a panel next to her. If they were correct, it would be the shortest FTL jump she had ever heard of.

  It was as if the captain of the little corvette could kill with a thought. There was no sign of an attack, yet ships were meeting sudden, inexplicable deaths.

  Four ships left the fleet, making speed for the outer edge of the system where they would jump away. Not those with awakened on board, but pirates and mercenaries that had come at Admiral Slaught’s invitation. The destruction at Lazuria 27 and here discouraged them, and this was an opportunity to get free.

  Lord Muuk’s fleet was disintegrating.

  “Remain here,” Steo said.