ARMS For Eternity: (Book 8)

by Stephen Arseneault

  "Comparatively, yes. You are never actually breaking light-speed. As of yet, that remains an impossibility."

  Harris said, "Who cares how we do it. That kind of speed is incredible."

  "I care. But I suppose that comes from being a physicist."

  "Still, that cuts our journey to Earth to ten or twelve days. Instead of a year to move our people out of here, we might be done in six months."

  The trio took a seat on a nearby bench. The bots moved tirelessly from one task to another. As Harris looked down at the time on his arm pad, he noted the minute the work changed from deconstruction to installation. It exactly matched Alex's schedule.

  "Tell us something about Earth?" Harris asked.

  "The planet or the people?"

  "Start with the people."

  "There were two sides with political power and wealth. Those two sides became the New Earth and Domicile ships. The New Earth side consisted of different nations who were largely run by ruling parties or dictators. There was one entity or party in full control. Some of the lesser nations that sided with them did so due to proximity, or because their economies were dependent on the larger of those nations.

  "There was an attempt at one point to combine both efforts and to mix both peoples, but the politics of it all won out. Both sides had originally announced projects more on the scale of what we wish to accomplish here, and the populations eagerly went along. In the later stages of the builds, word got out that those projects had been scaled back significantly, and that only an elite few would be making the journey.

  "Politicians made certain their families were selected, even to the detriment of the scientists and engineers that were expected to be needed at this end of the journey. Next came those scientists, engineers, medical personnel, agronomists. After them were those with necessary and useful skills. The remaining million or so seats then went into a lottery. However, the lottery was somewhat of a farce, as most of those people sold or traded their tickets to the wealthy.

  "In the end, there was much anger and the people who were slated to go had to be moved to the ship a month early, for safety reasons. Keep in mind, during all this there were various news reports that said the gamma radiation was likely to miss Earth altogether. I believe those stories to have been floated out to the masses in order to tamp down the fear of an ultimate annihilation.

  "At the time we left, the governments were all dealing with major unrest. The people felt lied to and cheated. A number of the countries that remained were also working on alternate colony ships for a run to Alpha Centauri. It was doubtful any were completed on time, and doubtful that Alpha Centauri even had a habitable planet for them to colonize. For those of us who left, there was a profound sense of guilt."

  "And the Earthers? They had the same issues?" Tawn asked.

  "Only toward the end. Efforts by those who remained in charge of those nations appeared to be far behind those of the West."

  "The West?"

  "The Domers. The two major factions were made up of countries that were largely considered of eastern or western hemispherical origin. There was also the threat of nuclear war by remaining factions who thought the entire experience to be unfair, which it largely was."

  "And the gamma radiation, when exactly was it supposed to hit as compared to when you left?"

  "As soon as ten years later, but possibly as long as fifty. Our scientific community was given the means to test to see that it was indeed heading our way, but the measurements and methodologies told us they were far from accurate. Sadly, until the scout returned with news of little to no animal life, I always had at least a smidgen of hope we had survived."

  "No efforts to build any shielding on the ground?"

  "Some. And some quite ingenious. Most, however, were abandoned when it was learned the radiation could be an issue for anywhere from less than a minute to hundreds of years. The later of those possibilities was predicted to wipe out all vegetation as well."

  Harris said, "Well Earth has nothing much more than ruins now, the remains of cities, monuments, and whatnot. No sign of living Humans. Maybe we'll have to check out Alpha Centauri once we get there."

  "If some did make it there, and if they survived, I have to wonder how welcome we would be."

  "It wasn't us, Doc. All that happened two thousand years ago. We're all Humans."

  "And yet we fought among ourselves for much of that time."

  "True."

  Alex's expression turned to a frown. "I just had a thought. When it comes time to move our people, who goes first?"

  "Has to be those who are most needed for our survival, don't you think?"

  "And who makes that determination?"

  "The government. And I see where you're going. We should be prepared for some unrest. As more ships go, those who are left behind are likely to start getting antsy. Anxiety has a way of building up to a point where rational and reasonable thoughts get ignored. We should talk with the President and let him know this is likely to be an issue."

  Again, on schedule, the bots completed the installation. New software was installed and ground tests were conducted. All checked out as expected. Harris volunteered to be the lone pilot, but the others would have none of it. Alex wanted to monitor the operational parameters as they came in, while Tawn just didn't want to be left behind.

  The Bangor eased out of the bay and powered beyond to free space. As the mass-related barrier was reached, the first wormhole was opened. The jump distance was almost identical to what it had previously been.

  "That right, Doc? And it seemed a bit slow to spin up."

  "I was not expecting the slower open. That I will have to study, but I expect it will be a result of the phase-one refining. As to the length of the first dozen jumps, I would expect them to start short and extend over time as before. The algorithm has to first remove the noise compensation from prior jumps. Give it a few minutes and we should see improvement."

  Harris intently watched the speed average indicator. As predicted, it began to rise with each successive jump.

  "Back to the twenty-eight thou we saw before. Nice. That one was thirty... thirty-one..."

  Within fifteen minutes, the speed average had topped forty thousand times the speed of light.

  Tawn asked, "How far we moving with each jump? Doesn't look all that far."

  Alex stood over their shoulders. "The original hop drives were moving us at about forty-two hundred times the speed of light. That equates to a light-year's distance about every two hours. At twenty-eight thousand times, that drops to a light-year about every nineteen minutes."

  Harris grinned. "Fifty thousand now."

  "That would be approximately ten and a half minutes per light year."

  Tawn nodded. "And we're using less fuel. Could that mast be shortened further, or eliminated?"

  "I believe we are at the optimum length for efficiency versus security. Longer does indeed recover more energy. It however comes at the expense of being vulnerable to being shot off during conflict."

  Harris pointed. "Sixty. And it's still moving up, although more slowly now."

  Another half hour had the speed topping out at the equivalent of seventy-six thousand times the speed of light. Much better than had been hoped for. The Bangor turned and headed back toward Domicile. The upgrade, according to the measured data, was a complete success.

  — Chapter 23 —

  * * *

  Harris turned with his hand out for a shake as the hatch opened. "Another winner, Doc. That's about seven minutes to jump a light-year. Any more improvement to be had on that?"

  Alex pursed his lips as he shook his head. "I believe we're nearing the theoretical limits of what that equipment can do. We still know so little about how the wormhole mechanism functions. It's similar to gravity that way. We can manipulate it to some degree to get a desired effect, but we don't have a full understanding of what we're dealing with."

  Alex departed, heading back to his lab with Farker a
t his heel. Harris taxied the Bangor out to open space and turned her toward the surface.

  Tawn crossed her arms as she looked over the data on her display. "Outstanding. Gotta love the doc."

  "Next up is the daily status brief. It’ll be hard to hold this in if we get called first."

  "Just defer to Doc. No one will complain."

  "What's that supposed to mean?"

  Tawn chuckled. "It means we have nothing to report. And when they ask you, you're gonna say 'We have nothing to report from our end.’ Same thing you say almost every day."

  "Am I supposed to spice that message up somehow? Hey, everyone, on this most auspicious day of our existence we have no new revelations to report!"

  "No. But that would be an improvement."

  "Well, what—"

  A comm came in over the scout channel. "This is 324458. A Frizoid fleet is massing at their nearest base. Current fleet strength is fifty-four thousand and climbing daily. This information is now ten days old."

  Tawn scowled. "Crap. We may not even get to move person one."

  "We have a hundred thousand out there already."

  "Person one of the main move, idiot. This means we possibly have less than two months before their arrival. Not gonna happen."

  "That's two months’ more missiles. We should be able to achieve that hundred thousand unit goal by then. And we'll have the Banshees to launch them. If this works, it may mean we're finally in the clear. Those scouts are on a rotation now. We're getting daily updates. If they depart, we know we have sixty-three days minus the ten for our scout."

  The Bangor was parked. Tawn and Harris made their way into the presidential estate and to the daily briefing conference room. Aides were scurrying about with the news having only come in minutes before.

  Alex's image came up on a display, as did that of Bannis Morgan, and the colonel.

  Hansel Armstrong entered the room with the vice-president at his side. "Ladies, gentlemen, this is it. The Frizoid may be here in as little as fifty-three days. I'm calling in all citizens from all remote colonies. I'm also directing our transport fleet, which currently consists of three ships, to begin moving our people. Day one of the move begins now."

  Harris raised a hand. "Where we gonna put them?"

  "Put who?"

  "The colonists, when they arrive here. What facilities do we have ready to receive them?"

  "We don't. They'll be going directly to Earth from those colonies. I've ordered the transport crews to their ships. They'll be leaving within the hour for their pick-ups. Scouts have been ordered out to spread the word in hopes of speeding this along. All colony governors should have a plan in place for emergency evacuation. The move begins now."

  Tawn raised her hand.

  Armstrong pointed. "Say what you need to say, Freely. Our time is limited here."

  "OK. I was going to pass the mic to Professor Gaerten, but since we're constrained I'll have to steal his glory. We have a new update to the hop-drives that almost triples their speed. We should make those updates before sending out any transports, sir. We'll get three times the payload out of them over the coming two months."

  "How long for a retrofit?"

  "Five hours per ship," replied Alex. "And yes, they can be done in parallel. I'll have the designs over to the shipyards before this meeting adjourns. All future builds will have this update."

  "What about the Banshees?"

  "I don't believe it to be wise to tie up our resources for that, sir. Speeding up those ships doesn't buy us much advantage."

  Harris said, "We should focus our efforts on missiles and transports. At this point, bot production doesn't even do us any good. If those resources can be used elsewhere, we should move them."

  The supposed short briefing ran for more than an hour. Priorities were changed and orders given out. The transport crews would be boarded and ready, but the ships themselves would be moved into the repair docks for retrofits. In the five hours it would take for the conversions, a fourth transport was expected to join the fleet. Each was capable of moving sixty thousand colonists.

  Tawn plopped down in the copilot's seat of the Bangor. "Wow, this is all coming to a head now. One more hurdle to get over. And here we sit with nothing to do."

  Harris closed the hatch. "We're gonna make a run out to the Retreat, see if we can be of help, even if it's just to haul boxes."

  "Sounds good to me."

  The several hours’ run to the Retreat had the Bangor dropping through orbit. The first dome was completely gone. The second was down to the final floor on the inside and out, excluding the massive supports. The ship landed outside all the bustle that was taking place on the tarmac beside the second dome.

  The colonel turned for a greeting as Tawn and Harris walked up. "Almost done with number two."

  Tawn asked, "You got the alert, right?"

  "We did. And we volunteered to be last out, which should allow us to finish up here with a few days to spare. If you notice, we left the rail cannons for all three domes intact. Those we'll move if we have the chance. If not, we'll at least put up a fight until the end. What are the two of you doing out here?"

  "We have no duties until that fleet is almost here. We'll be directing the automated Banshees in the defense. Sure hope we have one more fight left in us."

  "Skittish about our chances?"

  "We don't yet know their numbers. If it's even one more than we can handle, then it's over. One of those cruisers could destroy all our production in a day. After that, we're completely at their mercy."

  The colonel shook his head. "Sure miss the good old days of ground war fighting. It relied mostly on headcount, not production."

  "Yeah, but we were fighting by the flaky rules of no ships in ground fights. None of these species would agree to or adhere to that. Is there anything here we can help with?"

  "Not that I can think of. The bots took a complete inventory back to the AI and had an ordered schedule developed where the bots are doing everything for us. Half the Bios chose to ride ahead with the first dome. My guess is they'll be bored to tears just sitting and watching."

  "Nah. If they have food and drink they'll figure out how to keep themselves entertained. Let's just hope that doesn't mean getting in trouble."

  The colonel gave the pair a quick tour of the happenings, followed by a lunch in the remaining cafe of dome three.

  After flying back to Domicile and Chicago Port Station, they found Alex busy overseeing an update to the station's hop-drive. Walking up behind where Alex was stooped over a table, Tawn stomped a foot to let him know they were there.

  "Problems?"

  Alex nodded as he stood. "Yes. We may not be able to modify the drive for this station. Most of the parts were custom made to accommodate the larger size wormhole that's needed. Some of those parts may have to be remade."

  "Time?"

  "Seven weeks."

  "Cutting it close, huh?"

  "Too close. The dismantle and reassemble is a three day job, pushing us right to the deadline of when they may be here. My simulations won't expand to accommodate this size to tell me whether or not it has a fair chance of working."

  "Sounds to me like you're staying with what you have," said Harris.

  "Possibly. Although I'm not ready to give up yet."

  "Can you order the parts anyway? Worst case, they aren't done and you have to destroy them. If they are done, but you don't have time for the install, you could always just bring them along."

  "A bigger problem is the production. They cannot be manufactured at present without taking resources from our transport production. So the upgrade may be a moot point anyway."

  A comm came in from a scout: "This is scout 488229. The Frizoid fleet has departed their base with eighty-eight thousand sixty-six warships. Estimated arrival in Human space is fifty-three days four hours."

  Tawn sighed. "Here we go. Clock is ticking."

  A comm came in from the President. "Gruberg, we need you
to go out to Geldon. The governor there says half his people refuse to leave. Persuade them it's in their best interest to do so."

  Harris nodded. "Will get right on it, sir."

  The ride to Geldon took almost another two hours. Instead of coming down on the tarmac, Harris landed in the middle of the main street. With the town being Geldon's only city, the governor came out to meet them.

  "Thank you for coming. The people don't seem to be intimidated by the looming threat. I've convinced them to come into town for this one meeting where their only obligation is to listen. They're right down here in the auditorium."

  "You managed to get everyone in one place? That's a good start."

  "No, this is only those who have refused to pack for the journey. Everyone else are in their homes, or here in town waiting for the comm. But before we go in, let me just say that these are a stubborn lot—mostly woodsmen or miners who like to keep to themselves most of the time. They're all good people though, so please do what you can."

  Tawn replied, "We'll do our best, Governor."

  Harris walked out on a stage in front of close to a thousand unhappy faces. "Hello. Sorry to be the bringer of bad news, but you all need to leave."

  The crowd began to rise from their seats, to which Tawn yelled out, "Not your seats! Just this planet."

  "Why should we go?" a voice came back. "These are our homes. We aren't bothering anyone. Why would they bother us?"

  "Because we're Humans. And because they want to own us... each and every one of us. If you stay, you will either die, be conscripted to fight in their wars, or enslaved. There are no other choices."

  "We can hide. They won't find many of us."

  Tawn scowled. "Each of you has to know we have bioscanners on our ships. It's a standard sensor. It will pick up every life form bigger than a bug. And that's just the standard model.

  "Unless you go a full kilometer underground and never come out, they will find you. A simple probe sitting right up there in orbit would easily cover a third of this planet. You poke your head out and they’ll know you're here. There is no hiding, and no shielding from detection."