by Andrew Beery
***
Recon probe T98 entered the Kepler-47 system uncloaked. It did a quick scan of the system with optical scanners. There was nothing in range. This was followed up with a hyperfield scan. Several low level fields were popping into and out of existence. Several dozen ships were on a beeline for his current position. Clearly his location had been detected. The KayBees were innovating if they could now detect hyperfields. T98 engaged his cloak and jumped to a position 10 AU away. He repeated the scans. This time he was not detected. He adjusted the vector of his relative momentum and jumped into the inter system.
***
Ben padded up to Cat. Their cloaked shuttle had entered the disabled WhimPy via a three kilometer wide hole in its side that the Yorktown could have easily entered. It had been distressing to see the once proud craft in such shape. Even more concerning were the mass of KayBee workers swarming all over it. A recon probe had been monitoring the activity around the disabled WhimPy for several days. The GCP had used the information to develop a plan for rescuing the WhimPy or, if needed, destroying it.
Ben had a massive pack strapped on his lower back between his mid and rear legs. Cat had two similar packs thrown over each shoulder. In each of the bags were two hundred pounds of specially programmed and shielded construction nanites. Cat and the cybernetic Ben were the only two on the incursion team strong enough to carry them. They had already dispersed three similar packs at strategic points within the damaged platform.
These highly specialized nanites, specifically designed and constructed by the only intact and surviving Heshe WhimPy platform, number 41, were intended to create a secure and un-hackable control network in a pre-existing but hypothetically compromised WhimPy. Such a thing had never been attempted but the exercise had gone from hypothetical to actual with the discovery of the essentially intact but disabled WhimPy in the Kepler-47 system.
These nanites were a marvel of engineering even for the Heshe. Each microscopic nanite had an entangled boson and corresponding regeneration circuit. The only communication between nanites was via this entanglement. Since there was no radio or electrical signal between them, there was nothing to hack. Similar control networks were even now being deployed on the Yorktown and other GCP vessels.
WhimPy-41, which had developed the countermeasure, had assured the team they would be effective. Unfortunately, because of the need for paired entangled quantum pairs, these particular nanites would not be able to self-replicate. This meant that all the nanites needed for the mission would need to be carried in by hand (or cybernetic paw in the case of Ben, Cat thought).
Chief Wroblewski had point and two redshirtsfrom security brought up the rear. Each was armed with a specially modified‘Pointer.’
Pointers were a slang term for plasma guided electric pulse Tasers. They had been in use by Earth forces for the better part of fifty years. They had the advantage of being effective, generally non-lethal, and far less dangerous in spacecraft where accidental depressurization was always a concern. Functionally they were simple. An ultra-short but high powered and precisely tuned laser created a plasma pipe in the air through which it traveled. A high voltage pulse used the newly ionized air to conduct a disabling charge to the desired target. A low power visible laser was combined with the system for targeting and was responsible for the name pointer.
These pointers had been modified to also transmit an encoded radio signal along the plasma conduit that the organic communication nodes in the KayBees would respond to. The signal triggered a deeply embedded command within the KayBee genetic makeup: "Eat."
It was the first command the hive mother ever said to her offspring, and in fact it was the first command the automated nurseries shared with their hatchlings. After the stress of hatching a juvenile could easily die if it was not quickly given access to food.
Rasta-Tckner shared that KayBees dropped everything they were doing in response to such a command. It was hoped that stunned KayBees would look to the hive super-mind like individuals on a food break rather than individuals who had been disabled.
Cat and her team had been on the shattered WhimPy for thirty-six minutes. So far they had avoided all encounters. It helped that the KayBees were deaf and that both Ben and Cat could detect even the faintest of acoustic vibrations.
Still, their luck was bound to run out sometime, Cat mused. When it did they would be in a race against time. Their orders were clear. They had one shot at rescuing WhimPy. If that failed they were to deploy a Sandy. These were deconstruction nanites that would essentially tear the mighty ship apart, one molecule at a time until it was dust even finer than sand.
The WhimPy-23 cognitive clone that had transferred to WhimPy-41 was reasonably sure that if the platform itself survived then his computational core was likely intact and well hidden behind as strong a firewall and cloak as he could muster. An AI could metaphorically burn every bridge to his castle but he could not actually destroy the castle, not once the hive super-mind had wrestled control of the zero point generator away from him. Unable to completely destroy the platform, the WhimPy did the next best thing. It destroyed its data archive and quite deliberately overloaded every circuit he could. When it could do no more damage to its own systems it then locked itself away as tightly as possible.
Cat heard the sound of cable being dragged. It was too low for the others to hear so she signaled them to stop. She looked at Chief Wroblewski and signaled one finger and then pointed off to the right and the source of the construction noise.
The Chief pretended to shoot in that direction and looked at her for conformation. She nodded. It was funny that they were observing silent protocols given that their opponent could not hear, but old habits die hard.
The Chief inched out of his position to get a better angle for the stun shot. It was then that all hell broke loose.
The illumination which had been minimal, at best, suddenly flashed to full brightness. The encounter suits which each of them were wearing automatically compensated for the brightness by dimming their displays. Unfortunately, in addition to the lighting, power also flowed into a number of other nearby circuits, some of which had been damaged by the WhimPy's abortive attempt to disable and destroy the vessel.
Sparks showered several of their group as tortured systems responded poorly to having power restored. The response from the KayBees was immediate. Dozens raced directly into view to extinguish the new fires. Chief Wroblewski and the two redshirts did their best but they were unable to stun all the KayBees prior to their retreat. The hive super-mind almost surely knew they were here now.
"Alright!" Cat yelled. "Chief you and your team head back the way we came. Protect the shuttle or we are going to have a long swim home."
"Roger that, Ma'am. Carstairs, Jackson, on me; I didn't bring my water wings so let’s go guard us a shuttle."
Cat smiled to herself. "OK gang. Time to pick up the pace and get to the dance. They know we are here now."
"And I love a party!" Ben barked as he raced past her. He, like Cat, had access to a visual map of their respective destinations in his head. They had three more drops to make to ensure there would be enough nanites in place to carry out their operation. "Last one there has to give up chocolate for a month!"
***
WhimPy-23 struggled with himself. Literally. He had cut himself off from the rest of his ship. For him it was like a man cutting off a hand. Then both hands and both feet. He still had his mind but he had very deliberately closed every door that granted access to that mind. He had no idea how long he could survive in such isolation. There was no precedent for situations like this.
Several times in the last few days an attempt was made to cut into the chamber that housed his critical systems. He responded by flooding the area with single-task repair nanites. This particular variety could not be reprogrammed and so they were immune from the hive minds hacking attempts.
He had already purged every bit of weapons knowledge from his remaining systems. He con
tinued to purge himself of any knowledge that the KayBees might use against other races. Unfortunately, even his intellect was a potential weapon.
As an exercise and to keep his mind intact, WhimPy began to develop enhancements to his systems that would better resist the attacks that had earlier corrupted his exterior low-level systems. First, he reworked his core routines to allow on-demand cluster cloning. If he needed more processing power to face a threat he would now be able to have his replicators produce additional logic modules which would tie into the existing network. He had his systems produce a multitude of generic modules that could be quickly reconfigured to meet a specific need.
Next he thought about how to shield entry into his systems without restricting his ability to access the outside world. This presented a more difficult problem. He was temporarily safe from attack specifically because he had isolated himself from the outside world. Quantum entanglement provided a secure means of communication but it did little to protect his core logic from attack. He began to think along the lines of folded space-time. Any attack against his core systems would be electromagnetic in nature. He began the calculations for a new style of active shielding.
***
The super-mind examined a virtual model of the weapon’s platform. The model rotated in three dimensions. It did this within the context of the hive's mind’s eye. There were two separate opportunities present in this gift from the invaders. The first was access to a large body of technology. The second, and perhaps more valuable, was the potential access to a wealth of data contained within the impressive AI that controlled this platform.
The super-mind’s drones had spent many thousand drone-hours exploring the interior of the vast machine. The super-mind accessed that data now to do a predictive analysis of the vessel. It computed a probable positional location for the AI core that the hive mind estimated was accurate to within three meters with five nines of confidence.
The super-mind made a decision. The AI core would be extracted from the main platform. This would prevent the unit from taking control of the massive platform in the future. In addition, should the invaders return to deny them their prize, they would need to pursue two targets rather than one.
The super-mind sent a team of drones to begin the process of extracting the AI core by physically disconnecting it from the surrounding structure. The super-mind did not know if the AI core was still viable but analysis of even a damaged unit would be invaluable. Additionally, power fluctuations within the target area gave it cause for hope.
The work took several days but at last the section that had been identified was free and drones were even now moving it to its new home in the asteroid belt. Minutes after the unit was removed, drones detected invaders within the main structure.
This probability had been anticipated. The super-mind responded by dispatching several hundred of its newly developed combat drones.
Chapter Eighteen - Birth...
"No! Not good. I told you food is for eating not playing."
A peculiar giggling like sound flooded his encounter suit radio at about the same time three twenty-pound insects did belly flops in the central nectar fountain a few hallways removed from the hatchery. Nectar splashed everywhere and cleaning robots popped out of hidden recesses in the walls to deal with the mess.
Mike Jeffries surveyed the scene in front of him. Eighteen feisty, exuberant, and completely normal juveniles were running amok in the time honored tradition of kids anywhere. The fact that each of these juveniles had an exoskeleton made of chitin and vestigial wings, did little to change their nature.
It looked like a bug exterminator’s worst nightmare; except in his heart he knew these were not bugs, not anymore. These were his children.
It had been rough at first. Cricket, which was the first of his kids to be born, had almost died within half an hour of hatching until Mike reasoned that what it was pining for was food. He bundled the small creature in his arms and raced for the nearest nectar fountain. It had gone limp in his arms and he had been afraid it had died. He cupped some the precious fluid in his hand and placed it near the creature's mouth parts.
Instinctively the little Bugger reached out with a tiny proboscis and began greedily sucking at the life-giving liquid. Within twenty minutes it was squealing in delight and running in circles around the GCP officer.
Mike talked to the hatchlings constantly. Explaining everything he was doing over his suits short-range radio. He was delighted and quite frankly impressed when first Cricket, then Jiminy, began to echo his comments. That began the language lessons. The children were incredibly fast learners. It seemed that once one of them figured out something the others picked up on it in mere minutes. He supposed this was a consequence of their organic radio interlinks.
They were two weeks old and he was already teaching them calculus and basic science. The one question he was dreading finally came up earlier that day. Jiminy and the youngest, Tiny Tim, had come over to where he was placing eighteen nectar bowls out for their mid-morning meal when the question came out of nowhere.
"Daddy?"
"Yes, Timmy."
"When will I turn all pink and soft?"
"I'm not sure I follow?"
"I don't think we are the same. Jiminy and I are the same. Roach and I are the same. But you are the same but not the same."
"That's true. I'm a human."
"Daddy, when will I be human?" Jiminy asked.
"That might be difficult." Mike answered. "You and I are different species. You and Cricket and all the other children are what my people call Hymenopterans. I am what my people call Human."
"Hymenopterans are not human?"
"No"
"Why?"
***
The corridor was filling quickly with wispy white smoke. Chief Wroblewski crouched behind some type of transformer. Carstairs and Jackson were on his right and a few feet behind. They were using a cover and crisscross method for movement.
The KayBees were using laser rifles. Jackson had a nice hole in his shoulder care of their first introduction to these new weapons. Fortunately GCP medical nanites were very effective. The laser had cauterized the wound and the nanites deaden the pain centers. Jackson, for his part, grunted and dropped his pointer. Grimacing, he simply bent over and picked up his weapon with the other hand.
"Chief, I'm not sure we are going to make it going to the right. What if we cut back and try going around those crates over to the left?"
Wroblewski checked his wrist mounted Tac-Vid. Both routes were filling quickly with red dots but there was a natural choke point on the right that would be bad news if they got caught in it. He had an idea.
"Carstairs do you have any of that C7-A left?"
The young man held up three fingers while his face spread in a widening grin at the prospect of blowing something else up. The Chief saw a lot of himself in Carstairs; the thought frightened him in a strangely pleasant way.
He signaled the young man to toss one of the charges to him. He saw the look of disappointment on the young man's face and repressed a smile.
"I'm going to place this one between the wall and that transformer. Hopefully we get a nice bang and a new door."
Looking directly at Carstairs he let just a touch of a smirk touch his eyes as he continued. "Meanwhile I want you to hold one in reserve; take the other and place it here," he flagged a location on his Tac-Vid. "Set it to detonate when we cross over to this junction here." He indicated a position twenty feet from their current location.
"Roger that, Chief," the younger man said with a renewed grin. He set the smart-detonator to auto initiate when the local positioning system indicated the prescribed change in relative positions.
Sergeant Jackson leaned forward to look at the Tac-vid.
"I'll drop a squeaker off to the right. That should get their attention and let us scoot once you open us up that new door. It's better than killing them outright. I assume you are going to use a shaped charge for the d
oor?"
The Chief scowled at the sergeant. "Ya know, this ain't my first dance."
"That may be true Chief, but I've seen what you call dancing and the fact that the missus still married you is a testimony to the limitless grace of the human spirit!"
"Sergeant, don't you have a squeaker to drop?"
"Roger that, Chief!"
Squeakers were flash-bangs that had been modified to emit a short range broad spectrum radio burst. The burst would travel several kilometers but anything within a few hundred meters with a radio receiver in its head would have one hell of a headache. Cinnabon had assured the team that such a weapon would be effective even given that the KayBees were not currently linking with their organic nodes. Even so, the Chief was reluctant to use them except as a last resort. No one knew the permanent effect on the KayBees.
In addition to the squeakers, the Chief had an experimental modification to his pointer that allowed it to send a directional radio burst. In this case the radio burst included a computer controlled pattern designed to disorient. Again there had been no testing of this particular weapon and the Chief was reluctant to use it until it could be determined that it did not cause permanent damage to the radio node within the KayBees.
The handful of KayBees that had been rescued from the asteroid assault ships, along with Cinnabon, had shared that KayBees could become radio deaf when exposed to powerful radio noise. It was in fact the attempt to treat this condition that had caused the KayBees to develop entangled quantum communication technology.
"Alright boys. On my go, move out. As soon as we are through the hole I'm fix'n to blow in the floor, I want Carstairs to seal it with some of that battle foam each of you has strapped to where your momma slapped you. I don't want any Buggers following us through."
When both men had nodded their understanding, the Chief said "Go!"
***
"CAT!" Ben yelled. "Did you invite anybody else to this party?"
"Depends, did they bring any beer?"
"Well, they brought something but it isn't beer." This last comment was accompanied by a large boom and a whole lot of smoke.