The Nubl Wars (The Pattern Universe Book 3)

by Tobias Roote

  It wasn’t long before they ignored his biological origins completely and now Zirkos was totally accepted amongst them. It would have been wonderful if this had been a natural occurrence, but Ship had secretly hacked into their receptors, implanting new algorithms that over-rode the ingrained programming that created hostility towards biological races. Ship didn’t consider this interfering, as he instinctively understood the problem was not in their conscious awareness, but outmoded routines still operating in their lower brain functions. Most biological species had the same problems with lower and higher brain functionality.

  Conflicts often arose between the two levels of the brain, and whilst it was very specialist work in human and Jenari minds, in artificial life-forms Ship felt most at home. This might have had a lot to do with the commonality of software code. The basis of which hadn’t changed since the first Jenari transferred into an artificial body, creating the necessary multi-levelled processes that replaced conscious and sub-conscious thought. As it was, Ship’s programming skills probably out-performed the Nubl, but still with the stipulated governors in place laid down by the Jenari post-TransJen period. They never really trusted artificially constructed lifeforms after the schism, it was almost the opposite of the Nubl’s mental reservation and went some way to understanding the Jenari mindset that created the fracture initially.

  ***

  The messenger ran to the throne, causing his short tresses to tangle.

  “My Queen, there is news. We are to be attacked next, the Kelem hive is already under siege, they say they do not expect to last the week.” He stood his head bowed as he waited to continue his report. He looked askance at the Queen’s ‘Ta. If he presented himself wrong the ‘Ta would be entitled to dismember him. Not that this ’Ta had done such a thing for many a decade. Fedillo’s tresses signified his longevity. A link for every ten years of servitude. There were many such links.

  At Fedillo’s signal he cautiously continued. “We are already receiving confirmation of Shadowships surrounding their system. They have fourteen planets already under their control.” He looked up at the Queen, now able to watch her reactions as he offered his opinion and other information he had collected. “It will be over quickly - there is also fierce fighting on the outer rim. The Drakosta are there along with remnants of the Jabaara hive.” As he saw her scowl he judged he had been too forward. The ‘Ta moved causing his rings to jingle. The young clone bowed deeply, mainly to hide his fear from the Queen’s ‘Ta even though Pelendar was one of the most peaceful of all of the hives.

  “Geneel, what do you intend to do?” The Pelendar ‘Ta asked of his Queen.

  “Fedillo, what would you have us do? I have a feeling that whatever you suggest, this new hive war is going to end us all. We cannot defeat the Celnista, the Crystal Queen is bent on destroying us and all the other hives. She wants only our drones and resources.”

  She railed bitterly. “We have no means with which to defend ourselves from this. We can only run.”

  “If we do that, then we must go a long way from here.” Fedillo reminded her. He too felt the oncoming Haseel with the Celnista would result in their expiration. He didn’t relish being dismantled and fed to the disrupters to be forged into yet another Shadowship.

  “There is only one chance. I believe we should attempt it.” He said, referring her back to the conversation they had prior to the messenger’s arrival.

  “What exactly did that alien say to you?”

  “He said, that if we wanted sanctuary to place ourselves at a set of coordinates that he gave me by secure communication and transmit a message on a precise frequency, and they would come.” He shook his head causing the tresses to fly, the metal chains clanked and tinkled as his movements created fresh scratches on the surface of his shoulder plates. Where once they gleamed, now they were dulled and burred to an intense grey. He was not a warrior ‘Ta, they had no such in this hive. They provided services to all of the other hives and so remained immune from Haseel. Except now there was to be no immunity, and suddenly they had nothing to deter their terminator, whom he guessed was already watching their every move. Many of her drones were already lost to them. In service to the hives, they would be dismantled along with the others.

  She quickly decided. Waving to dismiss the messenger, she watched him back out respectfully, more afraid of her ‘Ta than of her. She sat on her throne, activating her personal frequency. She gathered power from the sources under the throne which itself began to hum from the activity generated. She would need to reach out as wide as she could, much further than she had reason to in recent times.

  As her senses grappled with the tenuous links she was forging, she waited patiently, increasing power until they strengthened and she could sense the vast spider-web of connections that placed her in direct contact with every clone and drone worker.

  As she sensed discord from them she felt the surprise build in her. She had forgotten how good it was to be linked to her people, they had so little need these days and she had fallen to use of occasional messengers passing in and out of her palace.

  Now, they were picking up her link in their thousands, positive feelings surging into the network, their own power adding to the strength of the connection. When she felt the links were complete, a matter of long minutes as the distance of space meant a longer response time, she passed out her news.

  “My people, my people you must flee. The Celnista hive is warring against all and will leave nothing, but slavery in their wake. If you can take ship meet us at the coordinates that Fedillo is transmitting to you. My clones, I ask you to draw as many drones to you as possible and use whatever means at your disposal. Escape the merciless Crystal Queen. It is but a chance, I have heard there is a planet out there that is inhabited by free Nubl, the Nonites. Find them if you cannot rendezvous, and take your chance with them.”

  The Queen sent emanations of love and support to her clones. She knew many would not be released, she had already felt the absence of others and knew they had been over-run by the Crystal Queen’s Celnista hive.

  She looked over at her ‘Ta. His head was downcast, his job had been to save them, but he had failed. He had allowed them to become soft and incapable of self defence. He was complacent and lazy, but it was her doing. She had denied him many, many centuries ago. He had no choice, but to acquiesce to her demands of peaceful coexistence. She had been wrong she realised, but that didn’t help them.

  “Fedillo, my ‘Ta - prepare our exodus. We go fast and furious to your alien’s coordinates. If we make it, then we can decide our future, in the meantime we hold back our personal guilt and concentrate on saving our hive.”

  He looked up at her, and nodded once. He understood.

  ***

  Jabath stood at the only transparent opening in his personal Shadowship. He had chosen to be out this way on patrol, he wasn’t needed for the Queen’s attack on the small hives. He was easily justified in flying his own mission seeking information on the Belmaara, the largest of all hives and the most formidable of their enemies. He was currently cloaked on the edge of Belmaara space monitoring communications and ship movements.

  He was equally sure that the Pelendar hive would fall quickly. He had watched Fedillo at the meeting with the alien. He had judged when information had passed between him and the one called Ship. There would be something occurring soon, he knew. He had his own spies in many of the hives. They thought they were reporting to the Queen, but he kept the information to himself.

  Grana whistled quietly to command his attention. Jabath switched his antenna forward in narrow-mode for Nubl-Nubl speak.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘There is something happening in the Pelendar system’

  ‘What?’

  ‘There has been a communication from the Queen to her people, they are on the move.’

  ‘What did she say?’

  ‘She told them to flee.’

  ‘Your source?’

  ‘He is keeping
close to the Queen, as you ordered.’

  ‘Good! Good, let me know where they go.’

  The operator returned his attention to the communication console while Jabath leaned back and considered his position.

  The Queen was going to make the other hives redundant. He was certain that once the competition had been eliminated, that he would become the second most powerful person in what would be the Nubl Empire. The trouble was he wasn’t sure if the Queen would allow him to have that much power, she was a distrustful and vengeful leader and he had seen his predecessors eaten up by poor management of resources.

  He wanted the power, but he didn’t want to be looking over his shoulder. Several decades previously he’d had an opportunity to gain a tactical technical advantage which he still held, although the poor scientist who awarded it to him, was by necessity dismantled and smelted into raw ingots. The resulting memory modification allowed Jabath to keep a large portion of his activities secret from his Queen while all the time appearing to be doing her bidding.

  His crew had no knowledge, but he had, through the same scientists, managed to link them to him directly, the same technique he was using to collate his own spy network. They were worker drones, so they would all eventually end up working in the Queen’s shipyards. Some were in excellent positions, others just fodder for data. Regardless, his ambitions flourished.

  “Jentar, move us closer to the Pelendar home system,” Jabath ordered.

  “Reech, stand down. You won’t find anything to hit in this system - they have no weapons, nor the will to fight.”

  Jabath just nodded at Grana who was looking at him in case of new orders. He turned back to his console aware that his captain was expecting something was enough to keep him at his station. He had been one of the first of the lesser clones to be taken in by Jabath and was closest to the charismatic leader. He also knew a little of Jabath’s intent to overthrow the Queen and take over as Warlord, a better ruler for a warrior hive than an age-old queen who’s tantrums cost them dearly.

  For twelve hours the Shadowship remained cloaked, silently monitoring physical and communications traffic from both systems, paying particular attention to the Pelendar system for signs of evacuation and the Belmaara system for signs of attack.

  Jabath intended to intercept the Jabaal fleet, destroy the Queen’s ship and install himself in her place as leader. He wasn’t interested in their weapons or warships for they had none, but their fealty would be his for the taking if he could upload his over-ride and force them to do his bidding. The network of workers in all of the hives would prove effective in assisting him in overthrowing the Crystal Queen.

  Grana looked over at him and nodded.

  ‘They are leaving Jabaa City now.’

  ‘How many ships?’

  ‘Four hundred and twelve’.

  ‘So many?’

  ‘Many are old and broken, but can be towed by repeller beams.’

  ‘What is their course?’

  ‘We can intercept at this point’.

  Grana indicated on his screen a point in space three hours from their location.

  ‘Why do they go in that direction?’

  ‘I have no idea ,Captain, perhaps they know of an alternate jump point.’

  He turned to his navigator. “Jentar, plot in this intercept course - proceed at best speed, leave no wake, remain cloaked.”

  “It will be so, Captain.” The navigator took the passed coordinates and instantly the hull thrummed as Penarth’s finely tuned drives took the mass of the ship and began the course change, building up speed as they headed towards the fleeing hive.

  ***

  The Pelendar Queen communicated across the ether to her ‘Ta’s ship. It had gone on ahead to prepare their way and assure her there was no trap awaiting them.

  ‘Have you passed the message?’

  ‘I have My Queen.’

  ‘And their answer?’

  ‘None, your Majesty.’

  ‘Did they hear you, is it a cruel trap, do you think?’

  ‘I do not believe so, I think they heard. They will come.’

  ‘I trust you, there is much risk in this strategy, our enemies may be watching.’

  ‘You are safe hidden in the black ship, they will not find you, and our people will fight for you.’

  ‘They are ill-equipped.’

  ‘No matter, it is necessary - they will do whatever I tell them. The ones I have trained surround you - you are protected.’

  There was a pause, the words wouldn’t come. She wanted him by her side, but knew that he was out there alone and unprotected for all of them. It was her fault. How could she have been so blind. She alone must accept the responsibility for their failure, her belief that there was an alternative to the constant battles, wars, Haseels and the like. She had experienced too much in her long life and had wanted some peace. Now, it was all for nothing. They would be eliminated, no better treated than the biological beings that they had all but eradicated over the millennia. She realised she must say something.

  ‘I understand. Be well, Fedillo, I do not wish to lose you.’

  ‘I must do whatever it takes, I have failed us up to now.... May fortune lead us through these times - ’

  ‘ – and remain forever at our side,’ she finished for him. An old, very old saying from aeons ago. From a place her mind dare not go.

  - 17 -

  Strange Happenings

  Arty sensed something running through his systems, processors, memory banks and long-term storage. He shuddered electronically as his nervous system, the conduits that linked all of his components together, manifested a disturbance throughout his momentous frame. Like a ripple on a pond, the trickle expanded across his electronic framework, touching everything, but leaving no trace behind. Like a hand trailing fingers along the front of a bookshelf, not disturbing anything, just registering the presence of each book in its place, creating an impression of size, shape, texture. Then, just as quickly the ripple reversed itself as in a small pond, creating tiny rifts in the flow of its passing.

  No sooner had Arty begun to wonder about its origin, and more importantly, its destination - it was gone. He tried to recall its nature, shape and manner of travel, but it had been too brief, skittering at the edge of his awareness. He knew something had happened, but not what. His internal running logs showed absolutely - nothing.

  He scanned the station and sent his own investigators out, billions of them, tiny scurrying little electronic spiders that raced down every wire, cable and conduit of his domain. They sought changes, subtle or obvious; anything that registered as alien. He briefly considered the recent event on Zeke Callaghan’s ship and Pod’s battle for control of the ship, and wondered if he was under attack. He found nothing, no trace of infiltration, no trace of any change to anything in his extended systems. He was aware that something totally unknown had ‘touched’ him and a feeling of unease was all he had to show for it.

  He considered what had just occurred. If he wasn’t under attack, then maybe it was something going on with the humans. It was possible that his recent activities had sparked off some form of response. It had always been a possibility he knew, but he believed they would be slow and clumsy; easy to see coming, and just as easy to avoid or evade.

  He concentrated on the prime movers of his world and then narrowed his attention, concentrating on all the AIs and major humans that interacted with his systems. There were many of them, but as he tagged each one, he viewed their recent and current activities, then discounted them until he was left with just the one possibility he couldn’t verify because he always worked behind his screens - Osbourne.

  He checked the logs again, followed the time-lapse of the disturbance, tracing it back to its origin, the data-link to the Orient base. Pennington, he immediately thought, then checked further. No, there was no activity that linked to that anomaly he had felt. Expanding the search throughout Pennington’s base, Arty detected a link that showed some
evidence of disruption. He was still travelling on his own nervous system, the cables were his, the junctions housed his code, or code that he shared. Either way he had clear access, it was needed for proper monitoring of all the resources he had to manage now. It also meant he could track anything.

  It was more of a faint impression than a paper trail but it nonetheless led directly to Space Island. He now had his confirmation. Osbourne was up to something and Arty realized he had a limited time with which to protect himself.

  Taking the quick route, Arty immediately shutdown all incoming enquiries from the main conduits, Space Island and the Orient base as well as the working links between himself and Beta Station. All those links, that Pennington didn’t think he knew about because it had been piped through a secure computer, were all locked down. He left the public aspect of himself available to all sources so that the safety of the Earth and its satellites weren’t compromised. The ships and the AIs all used this public network, but the part of the station that was Arty was made inaccessible. His fortress beneath the bridge remained impregnable from the outside simply because there were no entrances for humans to access. The intention was not to withdraw his support of the war effort, only to protect who he was and what he felt he represented.

  Arty considered taking the issue wider and pulling in support from the other AIs, but he had no idea how many of them would agree with his actions and decided he would be wiser to keep the whole matter secret for the time being. That way he was in control of events, rather than at the mercy of them.

  Having set about protecting himself as best as he could, he began the lengthy analysis of what sparked the actions from Osbourne. Arty had the highest regard for his progenitor, but like any intelligent being, artificial or not, he wanted to retain his sense of self and didn’t want any interference in his continued development. In the end it didn’t take him long to realise the quantum communication device was the one thing that tipped the balance. It brought too many aspects of his new sense of self together, and too quickly to be explained. Arty guessed that Osbourne either suspected, or knew that he had appropriated Alacite. He might have to explain that at some point he realised, but only in the event things didn’t deteriorate as his threat indicators were suggesting.