by Olson, Ry
“And preferably not on them.” Martin gambled on the reaction.
There was a heartbeat of silence, then suddenly several bright aqua rings raced up and down Burp’s ‘head’. “Ahhhh yeahh,” Burp howled in laughter.
Martin leaned back in his seat and grinned. It took Burp a second to get it, but he did. If they can appreciate self depreciating slapstick humor they can’t be all bad. He felt himself start to truly relax since the contact started. “But Burp, why a century?”
Burp settled down and heaved a sigh. “Two reasons really, first of all we didn’t want to make the same mistake the others made with the Rhome and create an even bigger problem. And second, you’re not the first race we found that might be able to help us, and themselves. We came across one other several hundred years ago who were much like you and were at about the same level of technology. We contacted them directly. At first everything went according to plan with them developing and learning about space warfare. But then their own internal tensions started interfering and various groups became more interested in currying our favor than preparing for war. Then to make things worse, we really couldn’t teach them how to fight because we simply didn’t know how to ourselves. Eventually the Rhome arrived and there was nothing we could do to stop the slaughter.” Burp’s colors faded to the point where he almost looked dead. “It was a horrible, hard lesson for our people and a disaster for them.” His color slowly faded back in. “So when we discovered you humans we were determined not to make the same mistake. As we observed your kind it became clear your technology advanced much more quickly when you were at war and you would come together as a people only when faced with a common threat.”
Martin nodded sadly, recognizing the truth behind Burp’s words. “So you attacked us.”
“Yes,” Burp’s quiet voice was reflected in his subdued coloring. “It was one of the most difficult decisions we Koth have ever made. An unprovoked attack went against everything we had ever known or stood for.” He fell silent for a few seconds. “But we did attack. We attacked in measured doses, upping the technology and ferocity as you progressed. We also made the decision to leave behind our technology and dead, hoping you could learn from them as well.”
Now I understand Gypsy’s feelings. Martin sagged under the onslaught of mixed emotions. How dare they? How dare they what, help us learn to save ourselves? All those lives wasted . . . against annihilation, a no brainer there, baby. God, Brian, Tom . . . a million others. God dammit!! He refocused on Burp, waiting silently with wilted colors.
“I’m so sorry . . . we’re so sorry.” Burp’s sincerity seemed to be reflected in slow moving drab colors. “But it couldn’t be helped, we had to do it.”
“Why? Why after all that time?” Martin asked with a gentler voice than he felt.
Burp sagged a little more. “Because the Rhome started in this direction.”
The simple, soft spoken answer took Martin’s breath away and felt like a weight in his gut. “Oh.” He replied quietly.
44: Why
Martin sat in contemplative silence studying the equally silent Koth. Burp’s head settled into a steady lemon yellow with small sporadic bursts of assorted colors that would fade as quickly as they appeared. The conflicted human couldn’t decide whether he was looking at an angel or a demon; or some macabre combination of the two. He didn’t know what to say, or even what questions he should ask. It was Burp who broke the silence.
“As I said, the Rhome and the others had a second war.” Burp’s rings were slowly moving down his head and Martin realized his Koth counterpart was choosing his words very carefully. “It’s very important that you humans appreciate just what we’re up against with the Rhome. After their first war the surviving Rhome abandoned their settled planets, as remote as they were, and relocated even further out into space to even more remote locations. Then for over a hundred years they expanded their sphere of influence outward, growing in numbers . . . and fanaticism. Meanwhile, the others settled into complacency never recognizing the growing threat of their old vanquished enemy. Our research has never been able to determine what triggered the second war, just the aftermath. The others were simply overwhelmed by the Rhome hoard.”
Burp fell silent for a moment. “Major, the Rhome weren’t simply genocidal . . . they sterilized ALL the planets in the others’ sphere rendering them unable to support life; any form of life. After they finished decimating the others they returned to their sphere leaving behind a vast area of space that won’t be able to support life for millenniums. We estimate we entered the area of space the Rhome had decimated about a thousand years after the conflict and it took us almost a hundred years of slow careful examination to reach the other side.”
“And during that entire time you never came across any Rhome?”
“Correct, they had continued to expand outward away from the obliterated area showing no interest in an area where they knew there were no inhabitable planets and we had entered the area from the opposite direction.”
Martin studied Burp in silence for a few moments before he spoke. “So when did you first encounter the Rhome?”
“Everything changed a little over a thousand years ago when our exploratory groups entered the area where the Rhome had abandoned their original planets and returned to recolonize a few of them.”
“And I assume the first encounter didn’t go too well.” Martin mused.
“To say the least!” Burp’s colors exploded for a moment. “A small group of our ships encountered a Rhome freighter that jumped before they could hail it. The only reason we know what happened was because one of the group got separated from the rest due to a faulty field generator. They were working on it as the rest continued exploring, planning on catching up later.
Burp hesitated. “They had powered most of their ship down during the repair and saw the attack on their passive scanners. Our ships were orbiting one of the deserted planets,” Burp’s rings turned a fiery orange, “when a large group of Rhome warships phased in and slaughtered them in a matter of seconds.” Burp faded to the point where the rings were almost invisible. “Major . . . we Koth had never even seen an operational warship before. Such a thing was beyond our comprehension. Even after seeing the destruction of the others we couldn’t rationalize such a thing existed. We had stumbled across a few ancient derelicts whose function was a curiosity . . . then we knew.”
Martin’s mouth hung open in amazement for a second. “Burp, are you telling me your ships had NO defensive armaments?”
Burp faded even more. “No so much as a pop gun; as you humans would say.”
“Wow!” Martin shook his head. “So what happened next?”
“It was obvious there were no survivors in the group of ships, so the damaged ship completed their repairs doing everything possible not to draw attention and retreated. When they were well into the obliterated area they reported what had happened and all our ships were ordered back home.”
“And?” Martin asked.
Burp’s colors returned back to normal. “Nothing for a long time, over a hundred years passed. We as a race thought the incident over. Remember, our suitable planets are extremely rare so we are spread very thinly over a wide area. Never in our worst imaginings did we consider this hostile race was searching for us, but simply couldn’t find us. Our closest planet was a long way from the ancient battle zone. But they did eventually locate one of our planets.” Burp faded. “They sterilized the planet killing a hundred million of our kind.” Burp hesitated for a moment, obviously traumatized by some ancient memory. “But the disaster wasn’t over. We never considered that they would follow the fleeing ships.” Burp almost looked dead. “We lost twelve more planets before we realized we were leading the Rhome to our worlds. Billions of us died because we simply didn’t understand.”
Martin didn’t know what to say. A disaster the magnitude of what Burp described made him want to yell; What in the hell is wrong with you idiots! He took a deep breath and
steadied himself. “I assume you didn’t have any planetary defensive weaponry,” Martin sighed.
“No, nothing, nada,” Burp’s colorings regained their normal vibrancy. “Back to Koth Physiology one-o-one, with a side of psychology.”
Martin was relieved to see a faint aqua ring drift down Burp’s head.
“First of all; we don’t acquire sustenance by eating as you humans do, we absorb all out nutrients directly from our atmosphere. This is a slow, steady process that gives us an extremely low metabolism when compared to humans, or just about any other race for that matter. Your leisurely stroll would be a mad dash for one of us that would leave us incapacitated after just a few hundred of your feet, and it would take several of your days to recuperate. We move in what appears to be slow motion compared to you.”
Martin raised his eyebrows. “So how do we appear to the Koth?”
A single aqua ring flittered down Burp’s head. “Yeah, about that . . . No, in reality we have seen a wide variety of life forms and came to realize we are the anomaly. First of all it precludes just about any capability for violence among us; we simply are not strong enough or fast enough to do much damage even if we wanted to.” Another aqua ring appeared. “And we see in all directions all the time so there’s no chance of sneaking up behind as in you humans. But to answer your question; watching humans move is a little disconcerting and takes some getting used to. The point is we as a race never had to fear for our individual safety in regard to dealing with each other.”
“Now I realize from what you’ve told me you guys all get along pretty well, but I can’t believe there are never disagreements between individual Koth.”
“Of course we have disagreements; we have them all the time, for a multitude of reasons. When it happens an arbitrator is assigned and each of the conflicting individuals give an egg showing their side of the argument and the arbitrator decides the issue. However, most times it doesn’t come to that, usually the individuals swap eggs and reach an understanding on their own. But the point of all this is we Koth, as a race, never experienced or even suspected a scenario existed where we would need any armaments of any kind.”
Martin mulled over what Burp had told him for a few moments. “I don’t understand. You said there was a hundred year lag between the Rhome wiping out your exploration group and when they attacked your planets. During all that time you never gave any thought to arming yourselves in case they showed up again.”
Burp’s color faded with an over all bluish tinge. “That may well be what shames us the most about dealing with the Rhome. After the initial attack some of us tried to develop weapons. We had scientific instruments and devices that could be modified and used as weapons, but in the end we just couldn’t figure out how to use them effectively. Then as time went by with no sign of the Rhome the efforts just fizzled out. In our naivety we thought if we simply avoided their space we would never see them again. Then when they did attack our planets we knew we had to do something” Burp went silent for a few moments. “Major, I assume you noticed how similar our weapons technology is to the Rhome’s.”
Martin nodded. “I kind’ve wondered about that.”
“It’s because we copied their technology. Even that took almost a hundred years.”
“What.” Martin shook his head.
“It all goes back to our physiology. Up to that point we would spend decades slowly building a ship, we were in no hurry. Why should we be? There was no pressure to build one quickly. But then we realized we needed to be able to build our ‘warcraft’ much more quickly and in greater numbers than ever before. So we spent a hundred years building facilities to automate the process.” Burp took on a noticeably olive tinge. “So then we finally had our ships . . . and they were useless. Or should I say; we were useless. Because of our low metabolism we couldn’t control the ships quickly enough to do battle and had no experience in tactics to boot. Basically we gave the Rhome fighters some target practice and little more.”
Martin closed his eyes and slowly shook his head at the Greek tragedy Burp was describing. No wonder the Rhome considered them a non-threat, they were a joke. No offense Burp.
“So it was back to the drawing board.” Burp continued with a little dark humor showing. “We studied the Rhome tactics and programmed our ships to respond autonomously and also gave them the ability to modify the programming on the fly, so to speak.”
Martin sighed with an unconscious smirk. “So in other words, once your pilots engaged in a battle they were just along for the ride.”
A very faint aqua ring drifted down Burp’s head. “Yeah, that’s about it.” Burp’s colors picked up. “But it did work after a fashion and we started actually winning a few fights. And when a surviving pilot came back they could pass around an egg so everyone would know what worked and what didn’t.”
“I always wondered why your ships would respond almost identically in a given situation.” Martin smiled. “I always accused you Koth of really stodgy training.”
Several bright aqua rings raced down Burp’s head. “Training . . . we don’t need no stinking training,” Burp paraphrased the ancient line, then became more serious. “As a matter of fact, our combat pilots are volunteers who are near the end of their life cycle. They learn to pilot the ship from an egg and off they go.” An aqua ring with a serious green cast worked its way down Burp’s head. “You’ll never know how many of our ships we had to recover because the pilot’s senescence failed on their way to battle.”
Martin chuckled in spite of himself. “So you’re telling me we weren’t battling brave young Koth, just a bunch of old geezers who could barely fly their ships.”
Martin smiled as almost blinding aqua and gold rings raced up and down Burp’s head. “Yeah baby. You was up against the ships’ computers with a bunch of old fogies just along for the ride. We didn’t even really need pilots . . .” Burp’s colors faded. “In fact most of the ships that engage the Rhome are unmanned.” Burp went quiet for a moment to let that sink in.
An unbidden thought passed through Martin’s mind of an out of control Prowler independently piloting his own ship. He loved his AI, but sometimes its abilities were frightening. He knew in a head to head fight in equal ships Prowler would make indecently short work of him. Many times he felt like a safety circuit between his AI and the rest of the universe.
Burp was well versed in communicating with humans, the slight paling and tightening of Martin’s face was cause for alarm. Early on in dealing with the humans the Koth learned all intelligence was not created equal nor could be measured by the same criteria. One area the Koth came to realize the superiority of the human mind was in threat assessment. The Koth had the advantage in the intricacies of technological development, but they could not match the humans for pure information processing speed and permutations of that information. Early on when studying the humans they engaged those they were communicating with in a game of strategy called Chess. It was unnerving to the Koth that their best and brightest were no match for admittedly mediocre human opponents. It was enlightening, and somewhat alarming, to see how quickly the human mind could not only recognize the situations on the board, but also analyze future variants real time. So if the revelation that most of their fighter craft were unmanned caused this much concern to Major Morgan, Burp knew they had overlooked something important.
“Ok, so you borrowed Rhome technology and tactics, I assume, to build your fleet. But surely you must have produced some innovations on your own. From what I’ve seen, while you may not be great in combat your technical abilities are exceptional.
A slight rose colored ring drifted down Burps head. “Umm, thank you. And yes we did make some progress on the technical side, enough to offset the Rhome’s tactical advantage. That brings up another significant lesson we learned from the humans. Technical and tactical advantages, although interrelated, have to be evaluated separately and differently.”
“Now you’ve lost me,” Martin sighed.
“You were there!”
“Yes, we had tactical surveillance ships in the area. Remember, we’ve had the level of technology you now see the whole time we’ve been observing you humans. For a long time we had free rein in you occupied space with no fear of detection, your technology just wasn’t advanced enough to be a threat.” Burp noticed the look of disgust on Martin’s face. “Major, things have changed a lot, especially with you humans.” Burp hesitated. “Major, I know this is a bitter pill but stay with me. It gets a little worse from your viewpoint then a whole lot better.”
Don’t let your ego cause trouble. We need to know this, as a kick in the crotch, nauseating as it is. At least Burp’s giving it to me straight. Martin nodded in stony silence.
“One thing we noticed is your instinctive suspicion of anything that comes too easy. So when we realized we, the humans and the Koth, were out of time with the Rhome we needed to spur your space combat capabilities. And the only way we could come up with was to attack. While observing your rebellion we noted where as your technology was lacking, your strategies and tactical adaptability were mind boggling to us. So we had to give you technology in such a way as you would accept it, you had to earn it. We couldn’t send in our state of the art warships because you wouldn’t be capable of fighting them, so we retrograded the ships we sent in hoping you would advance your technology on your own to the point where we could realistically lose some ships for you to study. And you did, rather more quickly than we had anticipated I might add.”