Genesis

by Lawrence P White

  “I’ve just never heard of a computer blowing out like that. Don’t you have safeguards?”

  “Of course, but sometimes the safeguards get overwhelmed. Doesn’t that happen to you?”

  “No.”

  Ollie’s eyebrows lifted. “Have you ever been fired at by two or three ships at the same time?”

  “Often, especially in training. A computer failure never even entered my mind.” Kannick thought for another minute. “Do you know what happened to Greg when he escaped that battle in the Asteroid belt?”

  “Yes, I’ve seen the recording.”

  “Well, I’m the one who rescued him, very discretely I might add. Ollie, his ship was fine. There was nothing wrong with it at all except for the pilot, Greg. He was very ill from the germ he picked up from your people on Earth.”

  “But all three of my ships were firing on him at the same time. How could there have been nothing wrong with his ship?”

  “It would have succumbed, but it did not succumb before he activated our secret weapon. Ollie, our computers do not fail under any circumstances.”

  It was Ollie’s turn to be surprised. Then he grew worried. “Just how many computers did you have on that ship of yours I flew?”

  “One, of course.”

  Ollie jumped up. “You mean to tell me you go into space with no backups? Even into battle with no backups? Are you crazy?”

  “Ollie, our computers are designed differently. They do not fail.”

  “They do not fail,” Ollie stated. “You’re crazy. Anything can fail during a battle. Heck, anything can fail even on a simple voyage like this one.”

  “Oh, Ollie, you are going to be in for such an awakening. Just wait until we build you some ships. They’re made to last. For a very long time,” he added.

  “Don’t send us any ships that only have one computer,” Ollie warned. “Or if you do, don’t let our guys know it. They’ll never go aboard.”

  Kannick got his chance at the guns the next day. He only had one Oort to contend with, and the job was fairly simple to begin with. His gun blister had a complex target designator for aiming, but all he had to do was designate the Oort as a target and let the gun’s computer do the rest. Ollie did not let his lesson end there, however. The gun suddenly stopped firing. Kannick looked up in surprise at Ollie and the gunnery instructor, Sergeant Hott.

  “Did it break?” he asked.

  “Not all of it,” Ollie replied sternly. “Everyone on the ship is depending on you to keep us alive. The targeting computer failed, so switch to manual.”

  “Manual!”

  “Yes, manual. Surely you noticed toward the end of the battle that it took us longer to kill the Oort.”

  “I figured you were just fatigued.”

  “Harbok do not show fatigue during a battle, Colonel. Our gunners took out the last few Oort manually. Now get up there with Sergeant Hott. He’ll show you what to do.”

  The job got a lot harder. He climbed up into the blister with Hott right behind him. Following Hott’s instructions, he cinched the seat belt as tight as it would go. Hott explained the controls, then belted himself in. A target soon materialized. Kannick actually had to aim the laser himself, using two control sticks. Very soon, he, Hott, and the gun were zooming around in all directions as Kannick strove to follow his target.

  “How do I fire?” he yelled back to Hott.

  “Just hold the trigger down any time you have a target inside the reticle. The laser fires as often as it can. It has to share its charge with the lower turret, so if you don’t have a target ready, let up on the trigger. That will give the other gunner more shots if he’s taking them.”

  Kannick stayed with it for an hour. By the end of the hour he was drenched with perspiration, and he had not yet gotten the single Oort ship.

  “That’s enough for today,” Ollie announced. “We’ll give you another shot at it tomorrow.”

  “Can you do this?” he asked Ollie as he climbed wearily down from the turret.

  In response, Ollie scrambled up the ladder as if his life depended on it, belted himself in, and went to work. He got a kill within five minutes.

  Kannick spent an hour in the turret every day with Hott. Other crew members dropped by from time to time to watch from below, but Kannick was too busy to notice. It took him a full week to get his first kill. When he did, he stopped and stared in astonishment, but another Oort popped up right away. Hott yelled at him to keep going. He did not get any more that day, but he did the following day, taking one out quickly, then spending the rest of the hour working on the second. The hour ended, but he kept at it until it, too, flashed into oblivion.

  He expected another target to show up, but Hott shut everything down. “Fun’s over,” he said. “Borkt is waiting for you to get back to your fancy drawings.”

  Kannick wanted to try his hand at flying the ship, but Ollie balked. Harbok pilots trained for years before going into space. The ships were not intuitive like An’Atee ships. Pilots and navigators spent most of their time heads-down with keypads. Pilots called out coordinates, and navigators entered them as the pilot maneuvered and executed instructions that came back from the navigator. It was a very complex and intimate dance the two played, especially during battle, but even now on a simple journey to their first jump point, the pilot and navigator kept a constant watch to ensure they did not stray from their flight path.

  “Can’t you let the computer do it?” Kannick asked Ollie.

  “No. We always back it up. There can be no mistakes at the jump point. Those two will be working hard as we approach, and I will be watching their every move. We don’t want to end up at the wrong star.”

  Kannick’s jaw dropped. “That’s possible?”

  “I’m told it is, though I’ve never seen it.”

  “You were pretty good with the guns. Are you a pilot as well?”

  “I’m captain. I can and have held every position on this ship. That’s one of the requirements for making captain. Everyone else aboard is qualified in at least two positions, and several are shooting for captain slots.”

  “And, uh, how long does it take to become a captain?”

  “It took me thirty years. I started at the age of fifteen.”

  “Fifteen! When did you go to school?”

  “Our schooling never ends. You’ve spent enough time with Borkt to know that he knows a lot more than a simple engineer would need to know to keep a ship like this working.”

  “Yes. He said he’s interested in the science.”

  Ollie nodded. “He is not aiming for captain. His interests lie in science and engineering, not command. I, on the other hand, never had any goal other than to be a captain.”

  “So, what will you do if this war ends?”

  “It won’t end in my lifetime. I’ll eventually get to the point that my reflexes aren’t what they should be, and I’ll retire.”

  “What does retirement mean for you?”

  “It’s unlikely I’ll be promoted into a military job—hobbling around on one leg has pretty much taken that choice from me. Since I’ve held command positions, I’ll probably end up as a supervisor or manager at some surface facility somewhere, maybe a factory or something.”

  * * * * *

  Ollie invited Kannick to the bridge for their first jump. He came into an extremely tense atmosphere. A second navigator verified all inputs while a third, in training, reverified. Ollie watched their every move, but he said little. They knew what they were doing.

  The jump came off without a hitch. Kannick was shocked to discover them verifying their position with star sights immediately after the jump, as if they needed confirmation that they had not erred. A hard hour of work went into the process, then heads went down again to compute the next jump.

  The process did not just go on for hours, it stretched into days, then weeks. Kannick had little to do while everyone focused on jumps. Several hundred jumps later, they arrived on the outskirts of Haldor’s
system. Ollie put everyone on a limited work schedule for two days, then they resumed their normal duties. Kannick worked long hours with Borkt to complete their work, and he went back to spending an hour each day with the guns.

  A larger vessel took them aboard about a week out from Haldor. Armed guards escorted Kannick and Ollie to the squadron commander. They entered a conference room where six Harbok looked them over silently. The guards remained with them in the room. The Harbok officers wore drab, brown tunics with simple emblems of rank. Kannick could not even guess at the ranks. There were no introductions.

  A Harbok stood up. “You refused to explain yourself over the communicator, Captain,” he stated coldly. “Explain yourself now.”

  “Admiral, I have a message for the Lor,” Ollie stated. “The An’Atee with me is a courier.”

  “The Lor! You must be joking! What is the message?”

  “It is for Lor Tas’val’s ears, sir.”

  The admiral sat down with his anger showing. “I gave you an order, Captain.”

  “Very well, sir. Perhaps the An’Atee can explain. He speaks our language.”

  “He speaks our language?” Then, with some incredulity, “You would allow an An’Atee to speak for you?” He waved an arm, saying, “Guards, arrest this man. Arrest both of them.”

  “If you would, sir,” Ollie said, “we’re already arrested. The message this An’Atee brings is worthy of the Lor’s ears. If his message is true, it may spell our doom.”

  “You’re joking. The An’Atee cannot threaten us.”

  “No, sir. You force my hand. This An’Atee does not threaten. He brought proof that the Oort have a cloaking device.”

  The admiral remained stone-faced, but the Harbok to each side of him did not. They looked at Ollie, then at Kannick, then to each other with alarm in their eyes.

  The admiral sat back and crossed his hands over a hard stomach. “How would the An’Atee know such a thing?”

  “They have their own cloaking device, a primitive one, sir. I saw it with my own eyes. Cloaked An’Atee ships observed the last attack against Haldor. After the battle, one of them happened to be in position to see an Oort ship appear for just a moment on their screens, then it disappeared. The An’Atee are fairly certain the Oort dropped its cloaking device just before jumping back to wherever it came from.”

  The admiral turned his gaze to Kannick and studied him. “You can prove this?” he asked finally.

  “I can, sir. I have a copy of the recording with me.”

  “Show it to me.”

  Kannick removed a small unit from his pocket and placed it on the table. An image appeared in the air, an image of the forward screen of the fighter. A white symbol appeared near the edge of the screen, flashed a couple of times, then disappeared.

  “That’s all?” the admiral asked in disbelief. “That could be anything, or anywhere.”

  “It could, sir, but it is exactly what Captain Ollie said it is. I have additional recordings of the entire battle as seen from our ship if you would like to see them.”

  “That doesn’t prove this was an Oort ship.”

  “True,” Kannick replied. “It does prove that it was not a Harbok or an An’Atee ship. Our computers would have labeled it as such had it been. It is from another civilization.”

  “Anyone could make that video.”

  “But not the recording that precedes it, sir. That recording could only have come from the battle for Haldor. I’m sure you have experts who can review it for authenticity. I might add, sir, that regardless of what you know about the An’Atee, you probably know that we do not lie. Ever.”

  “Psh. An easy statement to make, but not so easily believed. You delivered your message. I will see that the Lor gets it. He turned to Ollie. “You’re right, Captain. This message is meaningful. We will study the recording. If I find it true, I’ll return you to duty. Until then, consider you and your crew under arrest. I will find someone else to return this An’Atee to Ariall.”

  “There’s more, sir,” Ollie stated stiffly.

  “What ‘more,’ Captain?”

  “The An’Atee developed a potential countermeasure to the cloaking device. I, myself, have seen it in operation. I flew one of their ships against one of my own. The An’Atee ship prevailed in that encounter, sir.”

  The admiral looked puzzled. “You’re stationed on Earth, aren’t you?”

  “I am, sir.”

  “What’s going on out there? Are you holding parties with the An’Atee?”

  “Definitely not, sir. I participated in the raid on Ariall, and when the Oort attacked my home world, I shot my own leg off as an Oort tried to attach itself. I’ve earned the right to speak freely, sir.”

  “Oh, you’re him,” the admiral replied. With reluctance that was even clear to Kannick, he added, “I guess you probably have. That doesn’t change the fact that you have some explaining to do.”

  “In that case, if I may say so, sir, I think we’re treating this ambassador from the An’Atee poorly. He brought a gift for us, a gift that has no strings attached.”

  The admiral sat back as if stung. “A gift? What sort of gift?”

  “A potential counter to the cloaking device. I used it myself, and it works. It’s not a cure for our dilemma, but it’s a beginning.”

  “How does it work?”

  Ollie looked to Kannick for guidance, and Kannick explained. “We developed a low power targeting laser that illuminates a cloaked ship. As you know, a cloaked ship does not radiate energy. We discovered, however, that it does reflect a focused laser. This targeting laser, with a lot of skill and a little luck, keeps a cloaked ship illuminated. As soon as the ship drops its cloak, we know where it is and can fire a more powerful laser at it.”

  The admiral looked to Ollie who said, “It’s true, sir.”

  “Where are the plans?”

  “On my ship.”

  “Bring them to me, then get this An’Atee out of my sight.”

  “It’s not that simple, sir. Colonel Kannick, in addition to commanding An’Atee fighting ships, is a scientist. He has been attempting to translate the plans into something we’ll understand, but it is not a simple process. He came here to help us design an operational unit.”

  “We have experts who can do that. Don’t worry.”

  Kannick spoke up. “Admiral, I was charged with delivering those plans into the hands of your Lor. I will not willingly give them to anyone else. I also came here to tell you that we’ve made a number of other advances that will improve your effectiveness against the Oort. We’re not stupid. We know they will eventually find us. We’re not ready to fight them ourselves, not yet, but we will be eventually. When we are, our advanced weapons will defeat them. In the meantime, why not let us give these weapons to you? Ally with us, and the outcome will not be in doubt. If you send me back without meeting Lor Tas’val, we’ll provide no further assistance.”

  “The Harbok do not need or want help from you.”

  “The Harbok don’t want help, that I know, but if the Oort have, in fact, developed a cloaking device of their own, you’ll need help from anywhere you can get it. Your very survival is at stake here. Do you want that knowledge, that decision, to rest on your shoulders? Or would you rather have it rest where it belongs, on the shoulders of the Lor?”

  “Strong words from an An’Atee residing on a Harbok ship.”

  “The stakes are that high, sir. Are you familiar with the fact that one special ship escaped during the battle in the Asteroid Belt near Earth?”

  “I am.”

  “Do you know how he did it?”

  “No.”

  “I’ll tell you. He activated a secret An’Atee weapon that vaporized the nearby Harbok ships instantly. It will do the same to any ship, even a baseship. Even an Oort baseship. We have a number of other things that you will find helpful, but you’ll never know what they are unless I reach an agreement with your Lor.”

  “I say again, we don’t
need your help.”

  “Is that your decision, sir? Are you in a position to make that call in the name of the Lor, in the name of all Harbok?”

  The admiral drummed his fingers on the table as he stared pityingly at Kannick. “The An’Atee are weak. You cannot fight.”

  “Agreed, sir. We are weak where you are strong, and we are strong where you are weak. We have a lot to offer you. I beg you in the name of your people to hear me out before sending me home.”

  “Sit down,” the admiral commanded. “You, too, Captain. You have a lot of convincing to do before I agree to let you see the Lor.”

  Kannick glanced at Ollie as they reached for seats. Their eyes locked, passing an unspoken message. They had won! This very simple gesture of the admiral’s spoke volumes.

  * * * * *

  Kannick landed on Haldor without ceremony. Armed guards marched him deep into an underground base and down a long corridor of rooms, most of which appeared to be empty. They stopped him in front of a nondescript, steel door, opened the door, and pushed him inside. His few belongings slid across the floor, and the door slammed shut. When the lock slid home, Kannick knew his status.

  He turned numbly to inventory his new home: four gray, metal walls, a cot, a toilet, and a sink. The door had a tiny window whose crazed glass was opaque.

  The sound of his own breathing was the loudest sound in the room. He stood in stunned silence, uncertain what to do or even what to think. There was light, and the temperature was cold, but otherwise he felt devoid of sensory input. His future was suddenly a blank.

  Built for a Harbok, the single room had plenty of space. For lack of anything else to do, he sat on the cot to think. Before long, he pulled the single blanket over himself and took a nap.

  The lock slamming open awoke him some time later. He felt disoriented, and by the time he remembered, a Harbok had set a tray of food on the floor and backed out. The door closed, and the lock slammed back into place.

  The next day, guards escorted him to a meeting of scientists. Kannick felt himself coming back alive, though it was a sluggish process. Harbok engineers peppered him with questions about the laser tagger, questions which he answered. When the meeting progressed to questions about An’Atee computers, he demanded to see Ollie or Borkt. They waved his request off without discussion.