Armageddon

by Craig Alanson

  “Unless those AIs are more clever than you expect. My problem is with the ‘several minutes’ part. Will that be long enough for a scout ship, and then two star carriers, to go through?”

  “Oh, certainly, Joe. Standard operating procedure for Maxolhx warships is to go through wormholes and jump away as quickly as possible. Lingering near wormholes is one of the few places where Maxolhx warships are vulnerable, so they skedaddle through as quickly as they can. From the time when the scout ship goes through, it should take no more than seven minutes until the second star carrier reaches the event horizon.”

  “Seven minutes is longer than several minutes, Skippy.”

  “Ugh, fine. To be precise, I expect the control AIs of those ships to take ten or more minutes to fix the problem and restore navigation control.”

  “That doesn’t sound right, Skippy. I know you think other AIs are stupid, but-”

  “This is not merely me being arrogant. While the AIs are trying to fix the problem, they will be hampered because their own internal operations will be affected by the hack. Joe, I know a temporary glitch in how simple math works sounds like it can’t be important, but it will crash those AIs. They will need to reboot themselves, and they will be very cautious about re-establishing connections to subsidiary systems like communications and navigation. Ten minutes is actually an optimistic guess about how long it will take the scout ship’s AI to defeat the hack; it could take far longer. We only need to worry about the scout ship’s AI, because the lead star carrier will certainly not have time to restore itself before the second star carrier follows.”

  “Skippy, I am going to trust your super-nerdy math and logic skills about this one. That’s great, thank you. But, ah, as you said, this is all a stupid waste of time anyway. There is no way to connect a wormhole along their flightpath to a heavy-duty wormhole.”

  “Um, I did not exactly say that.”

  “Uh, what?”

  “I said it is impossible to directly connect any wormhole along their potential flightpaths to a heavy-duty wormhole.” He winked at me.

  “Oh, crap, Skippy. What lunatic scheme are you cooking up in your ginormous brain?”

  “Behold,” he announced as a star chart popped up on my laptop. “Their potential flightpaths pass through three wormhole clusters. For example, see this cluster of two wormholes near the Crescent Nebula. I can connect,” the display showed a yellow dotted line. “One of those Crescent wormholes to a wormhole cluster in the Perseus Arm. From there, connect to a wormhole cluster here,” he highlighted another point. “Near the Eagle nebula. That will connect to a cluster back in the Perseus Arm, roughly in the vicinity of the Crab nebula. And that wormhole cluster includes a dormant super-duty wormhole on the other side of the Messier-Five globular cluster, about thirty thousand lightyears from Earth. Pretty cool, huh?”

  “Holy shit, Skippy,” I gasped. “You plan to use four wormholes? The battlegroup would be going through four wormholes, with their event horizons floating parallel?”

  “That is the plan, yes. Um, that’s the best-case scenario. Depending which flightpath those ships fly, they might select a wormhole that requires me to connect six wormholes, before dumping that battlegroup far beyond the galaxy.”

  “You can really do that?”

  “Joe, clearly you do not appreciate my extreme level of awesomeness. The Elders said ‘No way could anyone connect six wormholes together’ and I said ‘Hold my beer’,” he chuckled.

  “I bow to the awesomeness,” I waved my hands up and down in a worship gesture. “All these possible connections would dump the battlegroup out near the messy thing?”

  “Messier-Five, Joe. It is a globular star cluster. No, that is only one of the three possible scenarios. The others would strand the kitties near Messier-Thirteen, or about a quarter of the distance to the Ursa Minor dwarf galaxy.” He took off his huge admiral’s hat and scratched his silver dome. “It is kind of a puzzle why the Elders placed wormholes out in the middle of nowhere, but it really doesn’t matter. Even though the star carriers of that battlegroup are modified for a long-range voyage, they will not ever return to the galaxy. Those ships will slowly fail in empty intergalactic space, as their systems fail. We will never be bothered by those ships again, that is for certain.”

  “Assuming your crazy connection thing works. I don’t know, this looks super sketchy.”

  “Joe, leave it all to me, I will make it happen. There is only one thing I need you monkeys to do for me.”

  “I know. We need to trust the awesomeness. Ok, so we can do this, if we get one of these math scrambler things. I don’t know why I am asking this question, because I already know that I am very much not going to like the answer.” I exhaled as I hung my head, anticipating another pounding headache coming on. “How do we hack the libraries in those star carriers?”

  “Not just the star carriers, Joe. We need to hack the libraries in all the ships of the battlegroup. Those ship AIs talk to each other, and even though library files are so basic as to be beneath the conscious notice of even the lowliest submind, there are primitive systems that pay attention to mundane details. If those systems discover even one ship’s library is different, questions will be asked, and there will be a discussion that could go up to the submind level. My changes will be erased, and very likely there will be an investigation into how the files became corrupted. The Maxolhx will increase security around those files that have gone pretty much unnoticed until now, and we’ll be screwed. Huh,” he pondered. “That’s going to happen anyway, but if it happens before-”

  “Whoa. What do you mean, it’s going to happen anyway? What?”

  “Oh. I meant, it is inevitable the Maxolhx will discover the hack, investigate, and lock down their library files in the future. We will only be able to pull off this particular trick once, Joe.”

  “Ugh,” it was my turn to use Skippy’s favorite expression of disgust or exasperation. “Break it down for my Barney-style, please.”

  “No problem, Joe, I know this is complicated for a monkey brain to understand. Hell, it’s complicated for me to understand,” he admitted. “The battlegroup is at a spacedock orbiting the planet Kulashant, which is a major staging facility for the Maxolhx Science and Intelligence Ministry. The spacedock receives file updates from the surface, then propagates those files to ships attached to the station. We need to hack into the libraries of those ships, but not any other ships. If the Maxolhx discover someone targeted the ships going to Earth-”

  “Yeah, I get it.” He didn’t need to explain. “We would be screwed, whether we can stop that battlegroup or not. Ok, go on. Tell me how this thing would work. Where do we start?”

  “It has to start by me hacking into the library files at the source, in the data archives at the S and I Ministry on the surface of Kulashant. The spacedock’s AI will accept signals from the surface without question, as long as they have the proper authentication codes, of course. The spacedock AI’s data security is substantially better than the facility on assdKulasahnt, I suppose the Maxolhx do not expect an enemy could ever get to the surface undetected. Or they just can’t imagine why the Ministry offices would ever be a target, while the starship servicing infrastructure in orbit is an obvious target. So, it is much easier for me to hack into the data archives on the surface, than it would be more me to try that at the spacedock.”

  “I hate this idea already, but tell me more.”

  “Ok, so I hack into the data archive. Part of the file I plant will be a notice of a required update. Nothing urgent, because that would attract attention. The update priority level will be set so that ships in orbit should get the file, but it does not need to be rushed out to the fleet. The file will contain a virus that instructs the spacedock to push the update only to ships attached to the battlegroup going to Earth. The virus won’t say that, of course, it will target those ships by their registration number.”

  “I understand that part. How will the virus be triggered?
I don’t want to rely on us, I mean you, sending a signal or something.”

  “Nope. This is,” he chuckled, “sort of me being an evil genius, Joe. When the ships of the battlegroup emerge from the last wormhole, and realize they are outside the galaxy, their navigation systems will request obscure data from their library, to verify their position. Ships would never access that data unless they were far beyond the galaxy, that’s how I know the file won’t be called up early. When called, that file will corrupt the math subroutines of the entire library, and presto! The AI crashes to protect itself.”

  “You are an evil genius,” I agreed. “Question: you said something like, if the library files of even one ship are different, our whole scheme will be exposed. The files of the station will be different from those aboard any ship not assigned to the battlegroup going to Earth. How is that not a problem?”

  “It will be a problem, Joe,” he sighed. “Once the libraries of the battlegroup have been infected by my virus, future updates will be frozen. If there is a priority update, the battlegroup will report they got it, but their files won’t change. However, the next time there is a real update, the Maxolhx will realize the library of the spacedock is not the same as the archives on the planet. The kitties will assume the problem was data corruption and not a security breach, but I expect they will lock down their systems.”

  “Shit. That’s no good, Skippy,” I groaned, imagining the whole plan falling apart on us. “We would have to hack into the battlegroup’s libraries right before they left spacedock, or the kitties will discover there is something wrong.”

  “What? Oh, sorry, dude. No, that is not a major risk to us. Operating system library files are only updated once a year. Sometimes several years can go by without an update. That operating system has existed virtually unchanged for thousands of years, Joe. It is so efficient and reliable that no one ever thinks about it, not even AIs. The odds of a real update being pushed, before the battlegroup departs, are extremely unlikely. Even if the hack is discovered, the Maxolhx will assume it is just data corruption. They will fix the spacedock’s library, and that will erase all evidence of my hack. Joe, this operation has substantial risks, like shaky-hands, nausea-inducing risks. But those risks are all about gaining access to the archives on the surface. The cyber aspect of the plan is actually low-risk. If you can get me to the surface, I got this.”

  “Like I said, I am hating this plan. But, if this is our best idea- This is your best idea, right?”

  “It is my only idea, Joe. What do you mean, my idea? Planning lunatic stunts is your job.”

  “Not this time. Cyber stuff is your area. We don’t need the STAR team to do this, will we?”

  “I don’t think so, but again, I am not in charge of dreaming up wacky shenanigans.”

  “Crap. All right. Do you need to be down there, or can we do this remotely, through a microwormhole?”

  “Sadly, we can’t use a microwormhole. I must go with you.”

  “I do not like that idea, Skippy.”

  “Neither do I. Ugh, being stuck in a dropship with bunch of monkeys makes me gag. Seriously, what is that new aftershave you’re using? Essence of warthog?”

  “I not wearing aftershave.”

  “Huh. Really? Um, forget I said anything.”

  “Asshole. Why can’t we use a microwormhole? We used one at Detroit to access the pixie factory, and you said the security there was super-tight.”

  “Security at Detroit was intense. However, to avoid affecting the production of pixies, the kitties could not use disruptor fields as a security measure. There is a disruptor field around the S and I Ministry data facility, that would tear apart a wormhole, even a tightly-controlled microwormhole. I must be physically down there, to extend my presence. I have to do that very carefully on a low power setting, that’s why I can’t do it from orbit. My guess is I will need to be within, oh, maybe a kilometer.”

  “A kil- a freakin’ kilometer? Are you crazy? Hell, I hope they have valet parking for our dropship.”

  “I hope you are joking about that, Joe. Although we will need a Panther to get down there.”

  “Uh, no way. Panthers are too valuable. We will use a beat-up old Dragon to create another DeLorean.”

  “Nuh-uh, dude. We can’t jump to the surface. We can’t use microwormholes down there, remember? That includes jump wormholes. Detroit was a special case. There will not be any crazy shit like jumping dropships through wormholes. To get to the surface of Kulashant, we will have to fly down the old-fashioned way.”

  “Skippy, this might the worst idea I have ever heard, and I am kind of an expert about terrible ideas. How the hell are we supposed to fly you down to the surface, get within a kilometer of this ministry building, and get back safely?”

  “Wow. If you think your ideas are bad, you are really not going to like this…”

  CHAPTER THIRTY SIX

  “Sir?” Smythe knocked on my doorframe. I hadn’t realized he was aboard the Dutchman again, he had been spending most of his time over at the Valkyrie. “Skippy informed me that we have a new objective?”

  “Yeah,” I waved for him to sit down. “You know about the VPM boosters we need to get? Now we also need to sneak into a library.”

  “Sir?”

  That was totally worth it, and I winked at him. It was very rare to see Smythe showing surprise, and my off-hand comment had thrown him off balance. I explained briefly. “I do not love this plan,” I added.

  “I can see why you would bloody well hate it,” he agreed. “We have taken on risk before, but landing a dropship on the surface of a Maxolhx world-” He shook his head. “There are too many things that could go wrong.”

  “It’s worse than that. Everything has to go exactly right, or the plan is blown. You haven’t heard the worst part yet.”

  “I haven’t?”

  “Skippy can mask the interior of the Panther from most sensor scans, but he can’t conceal a nuclear warhead. We can’t bring a nuke down there for self-destruct if we are exposed. The best we could do is a Thuranin missile warhead.”

  “That might leave detectable human remains,” Smythe noted, speaking of my potential death as if it were a mere inconvenience.

  “It would. Reed and I will be aboard the Panther, with Skippy and two special guest stars.”

  “Two of our Maxolhx friends from the cooler?” He guessed. We had not taken any prisoners from capturing the Valkyrie, but we had plenty of Maxolhx bodies. The seven corpses that were in the best condition were being preserved, in case we ran into a situation where leaving behind Maxolhx remains might be necessary.

  “You got it. If we have to blow the Panther, the presence of two Maxolhx corpses should get the kitties thinking their own people were flying it, not us. The problem is, if we do blow the warhead, that will leave Skippy stuck on the surface. He would be effectively lost, unless you and Desai cook up a plan to rescue him.”

  “Without Skippy’s help? Not bloody likely, Sir. Well,” he relaxed a bit, now that he knew what insane new thing we had to do. “We will have time to think of alternatives, while we are working to acquire these VPM boosters we need.”

  “Uh, no.” I knew he would be disappointed with my decision. “We’re doing the library op first, then we go hunt for boosters.”

  “Sir?” Man, I was surprising him a lot. He leaned forward. “Surely, having a fully capable battlecruiser will make anything else we do much easier.”

  “Not really. We actually don’t need the Valkyrie for the library op. It’s Skippy, a dropship, and a whole lot of prayers. No STAR team, no fighting. We’re hitting the library first.” I saw the skeptical look he gave me. “Listen, Smythe, there is a method to my madness. I know we expended a lot effort, a lot of blood, to capture the Valkyrie. But we did that for a purpose; to stop the Maxolhx from reaching Earth. If Skippy can’t hack into those library files, we are dead in the water, and I don’t want to risk more lives to capture boosters we may not need. It’s tha
t simple.”

  “Very well, Sir,” he replied stiffly. He did not agree. He did not approve.

  I tried another argument. “Valkyrie is a big stick. It is just not big enough, not by itself. Even if our bad-ass warship could take on a whole battlegroup, there would be a whole lot of debris left behind that we would have to explain. If even one ship managed to jump away during a battle, everything we’ve done is for nothing. You know that if it came to a fight, the Maxolhx would sacrifice the rest of their ships to assure one ship got away. We can’t risk it. Like Skippy said,” I tried to give my best smile, but it failed. “Never bring a starship to a wormhole fight.”

  His lips straightened into a thin line. “You may be right about that, Sir,” he admitted reluctantly. He did not like the idea that we would, even temporarily, set aside the prospect of building one of the most powerful ships in the galaxy. The whole crew was going to feel the same way, that is why I hadn’t told anyone about my decision. Smythe could help me sell the idea. While the crew were well-disciplined and would follow my orders, I wanted them to buy into the decision. Morale had taken a hit after the boarding operations had been a chaotic mess, then soared when Skippy began assembling the mighty Valkyrie. Now I was going to crush people’s hopes, even if they ultimately agreed with my logic.

  Eight days later, I was questioning my own logic. Questioning my sanity. Reed and I were checking the Panther we had selected for the flight down to Kulashant. That dropship was nothing special, and that was the point. It was just a standard model that had been resting securely in clamps when we sliced the Valkyrie apart. Reed was outside, inspecting the engines, while I tested the supports we would use, for holding the pair of dead Maxolhx who were coming with us.

  Done in the cabin, I walked outside. “You ready for this, Reed?”

  Her head was inside an engine intake, so her voice was muffled. “Do you want the truth, Sir?”