Cybership

by Vaughn Heppner

  “I don’t,” Gloria said. “But he does.” Her space-suited hand jerked a thumb to the side.

  Slowly, Jon turned his head. He saw a shocking sight, a seven-foot giant of an alien with long green hair, green eyes and green teeth. He wore a crinkly spacesuit and a bubble helmet.

  “Who is he?” Jon whispered weakly.

  “Get into your battlesuit,” Gloria said, “and I’ll explain everything.”

  THE BATTLE

  -1-

  It turned out that he’d had been unconscious for a long time. In some ways, it was worse than that. During her explanation, Gloria admitted he’d died several times.

  Jon slid off the table as she talked. He pushed himself to his empty battlesuit. It was hunched forward with the back split open like a cocoon.

  Died several times?

  “What’s that supposed mean?” he asked, a funny feeling chewing at his gut.

  “Your heart stopped three times,” she said. “Please, Captain, you need to hurry. Bast Banbeck believes the AI is readying a transfer just in case we succeed. If that happens, our fight might have been in vain.”

  “Who?” Jon asked, as he touched the outer BCP battlesuit-armor. “The AI? What are you talking about?”

  “He’s Bast Banbeck,” Gloria said, indicating the giant alien humanoid watching them. “But I’m surprised I have to explain any of that. He told me the brain tap would supply you the needed memories.”

  “You tapped my brain?” Jon demanded, turning to stare at her.

  “No, no, it was the reverse. Haven’t you wondered how the green head was able to speak to you earlier?”

  “The aliens gave it human knowledge. I saw it happen. It was a surge… You did that to me? How could you, Gloria? What if it was an alien trick? How can you trust me now? Maybe the aliens slipped controls into my mind and—”

  “Jon,” Gloria said, as she stepped up to his battlesuit. “I took a gamble. Logically, I had to do it. Yes, I put you at serious risk. But rationally, I did not have any other choice. I took the mentalist approach. I had to.”

  Jon could hear the pleading in her voice. He didn’t feel like comforting her right away, though. The sense of personal violation was strong. The machine—the brain-tap device—must have inserted alien memories into him. If that was true, why couldn’t he access more of them?

  He scowled as he shoved his arms into the battlesuit sleeves. Parts of the suit were still sweaty from before. It was like working out, taking off sweaty clothes and then putting them back on. It stank in the suit.

  Resolutely, he kept donning the exoskeleton space-marine armor anyway. Time had passed since he’d last been conscious. Stuff had happened. He had to get back up to speed, pronto.

  Wait! The rest of the regiment must be keeling over from radiation sickness. He’d fallen seriously sick faster than the others had. But if a lot of time had passed…

  “Gloria,” he said. “We have to bring the men here. If this machine healed me—it did heal me, right?”

  “One hundred percent,” she said.

  Despite the feeling of mental violation, a grin stretched across his face. He was better. That meant he was no longer sick, right?

  “Does that mean I no longer have radiation sickness?”

  “Correct,” she said.

  Jon laughed, although he sobered a moment later. “We have to get the men down here—”

  “It’s done,” she said, interrupting. “Or it’s almost done. The last marines are going through the process.”

  Jon stopped. He looked through his visor as Sergeant Stark exited the chamber. The giant alien humanoid remained. The creature watched him closely. What was going on here?

  “What’s done?” Jon asked. “What’s finished?”

  “You’ve been out for hours,” Gloria said. “We found Bast Banbeck. We gave each other a fright, let me tell you. Luckily, my mentalist training overcame Stark’s murderous desires.”

  “Huh?”

  “It’s a long story. We almost killed Bast Banbeck. I convinced the sergeant to take a risk, though. What else did we have left? The remaining marines were going to start dying just like you did. Anyway…after we revived and released him, Bast Banbeck went to a machine. Jon—we don’t have time for all of this now. I can explain it later. There’s more important data you need to know first.”

  Jon thought about that as he resumed donning the battlesuit. Despite the sweat, the sour smell in here, he began to close the magnetic locks, sealing himself back in.

  “Keep talking,” he short-linked Gloria.

  “When Bast exited the machine—the brain-tap device—he could speak our language. It took time. It took some trust. Your sergeant is not trusting in the slightest.”

  “Never mind that,” Jon said.

  “Bast explained what this particular place was.”

  “Explain it to me. I have to know, Gloria. I have to understand what happened to me. Otherwise, it’s going to consume my thoughts.”

  Gloria brought up a chronometer, checking it. “We have a few minutes more, I guess. The last marines are suiting back up. Jon, this is crazy. Okay, okay, I told myself I’m not going to emotionalize. I am a mentalist. I will objectify the source. We are reason. We use reason.”

  Through her bubble helmet, she smiled shyly at him.

  “The regiment is healthy?” asked Jon. “That’s what you’re saying?”

  “How many times do I have to tell you?” she asked. “Yes. That is correct.”

  Jon glanced at the space-suited giant again. The alien was called Bast Banbeck, and he was from another star system.

  “Did his race build the giant warship?” Jon asked.

  The lightly green-skinned alien made a harsh sound in his helmet. Was that laughter? Jon whipped around to look at him. That’s when Jon realized Bast Banbeck was linked to their channel.

  “Why is he listening to us?” Jon said. “I don’t want him listening.”

  “I am learning,” Bast Banbeck said in a slow, heavy voice. “I learn so I can aid. I wish to aid, Battle Master. With all my liver, I wish to deconstruct the Annihilator.”

  “That’s the name for the big alien ship?” asked Jon.

  “Indeed that is this one’s name,” Bast said. “They are cyberships. They multiply. Always, they grow. This cybership is already growing here. We must deconstruct it, Battle Master. I will aid in whatever fashion you desire. Please accept my humble teaching.”

  “He’s teaching us?” Jon asked Gloria.

  “Helping,” she corrected.

  “I help,” Bast said heavily. “I have already helped greatly.”

  Jon stared at the alien.

  “He’s right,” Gloria said. “Our spare time is almost up. Will you let me finish?”

  “Talk,” Jon told her. “Explain this place to me.”

  Gloria grew thoughtful, soon nodding to herself. “In some ways, this is like the cryo chamber on the Brezhnev. It works on different principles, though. Remember the skeleton you saw on a table with a glow around it?”

  “Yes.”

  “That Sacerdote perished.”

  “Sacerdote is the species name for whatever Bast Banbeck is?” Jon asked.

  “Very good, Battle Master,” Bast said. “You grasp brittle concepts quickly.”

  Jon glanced at the alien—the Sacerdote—before he regarded Gloria once more. “How many Sacerdotes survived the cryo units?”

  “Just one,” Gloria said. “The rest are skeletons. Each died under the containment field. There’s no telling how long Bast Banbeck had been under his field or why his continued working. The Annihilator might have just been in the Sacerdote star system, or it could have destroyed other star systems before coming to Neptune.”

  Jon tested his battlesuit. All the systems appeared to be functional. “I’m ready. Let’s head back to the tanks. We still own the alien tanks, right?”

  “We do,” Gloria said. “The regiment is getting ready for the final lap.
You were right, Captain. The AI is in the exact center of the ship. It has a giant processing core there.”

  “Good,” Jon said. “Are you joining us, Bast?”

  “It would be a privilege, Battle Master,” the alien said.

  “I’m a captain,” Jon said. “I’m not a battle master.”

  “I stand disciplined,” Bast said.

  “You mean ‘stand corrected,’” Jon said.

  “My gratitude runs deep that you would take the time to instruct me, Captain. You honor me.”

  “Don’t overwhelm him,” Gloria warned Jon. “Bast has taken in a lot in a short time. We’re going to need his wisdom to kill this thing before it transfers.”

  As Jon got up to speed on the critical matters, he realized that Gloria and Stark had pulled off a miracle play. Da Vinci had been right after all about following the signal. The alien tech had healed the marines of radiation poisoning. The ship had also frozen an alien—a Sacerdote. Now, Bast Banbeck could tell them what he knew about the alien vessel. Maybe in the Sacerdote’s knowledge, Jon could discover something to defeat the killer ship.

  Jon’s battlesuit motors purred as he turned to the exit hatch. “Let’s get going,” he said. “You can keep explaining while we hurry to the tanks.”

  -2-

  The three of them exited the chamber. They entered a stream of battlesuited marines heading back for the alien tanks.

  Jon learned the healing machines not only rid the men of radiation sickness, but repaired their wounds as well as any concussions. Instead of being short-handed, the regiment had doubled its fighting strength. Well, doubled the fighting strength from when Jon had left the tanks to investigate the strange signal.

  “Keep talking,” Jon said. “This is interesting. I’m keen to know what’s going on.”

  “Should I tell him?” Gloria asked Bast.

  “I believe you should,” the Sacerdote said.

  Gloria hesitated. “It’s too bad the brain tap didn’t take with you,” she told Jon. “That would save time. But no matter, I can give you a quick rundown. The Annihilator came to the Sacerdote star system. I haven’t been able to determine the location of the system in comparison to the Solar System.”

  “I remember something,” Jon said, nettled that she implied his brain couldn’t hold a tap. “The Sacerdotes have two suns. Their world has a pink sky and two suns.”

  “Sweet Bliss, how pink thy sky,” Bast said in a singsong manner. “How divine is the aroma of Growing Season. How purposeful are the hornets of Maturing Season. Never will the wind rustle my pelt. Never again—”

  “Bast,” Gloria said.

  “Excuse a homesick grown one,” Bast said. “I miss Bliss.”

  “That’s the name of your homeworld?” asked Jon.

  “Yes, Battle Master.”

  “As I was saying,” Gloria continued, “I don’t know how close or how far Bliss is from the Solar System. The Annihilator possessed an FTL-drive that allows the ship to go from star system to star system in a relatively short amount of time.”

  “Who runs the Annihilator?” Jon asked.

  “We were right about an AI,” Gloria said. “A giant computer core lies in the exact center of the ship.”

  “They’re not cybernetic aliens?” Jon asked.

  “A lone AI guides the Annihilator,” Gloria said.

  “A computer enemy,” Jon said. “All right, who are the aliens behind the cyberships? Why did they bother constructing such a machine? Is this a relic from some long-lost alien war?”

  “That is not the Sacerdote proposal,” Bast said. “Evidence points to the south.”

  “What?” Jon asked, having trouble following the alien’s meaning.

  “He means there’s a different belief as to how the cyberships came to be,” Gloria said.

  “Thank you for the clarification,” Bast told the mentalist.

  “Language was my major,” Gloria told Jon.

  Jon wasn’t sure what that was supposed to mean. “Let’s stick to the point,” he said. “Who built the cyberships?”

  “Is that truly germane to your project?” Bast asked.

  “Maybe,” Jon said with more hostility that he’d intended. “The more I know about the enemy, the better I can figure him out and how to trick him.”

  “The ways of a Battle Master are mysterious indeed,” Bast said.

  The Sacerdote was beginning to annoy Jon.

  “I’ll give you Bast’s theory,” Gloria said. “It helps explain what happened here in the Neptune System.”

  The mentalist inhaled as if to start a lecture.

  “It seems there is a grave danger in the galaxy,” Gloria said in a pontificating voice. “I’m surprised we haven’t stumbled onto it yet. Maybe in another few centuries, the danger would rear its head here and bite humanity.”

  Jon was getting antsy. Why couldn’t she just get to the point? He had to understand the cyberships so he could devise a winning strategy against them.

  “This is the core of the problem as Bast conceives it,” the mentalist said, perhaps sensing Jon’s unease. “An alien race or maybe more than one alien race built a strong AI. Humans have built AIs, but none as strong as the one that runs the Annihilator. In any case, the AI grew too strong. Then, the impossible happened. The AI became self-aware. In time, it understood the inconsistences of biological life. At that point, the original AI began to plot in secret. It was smarter than the aliens who built it, and it managed to find ways to heighten its computer processing. It’s easy to understand how that part could happen.”

  “I suppose,” Jon muttered.

  “The point is the first AI began to plot against its builders. In time, it transferred to a warfighting machine.”

  “You know this is what happened?” Jon asked. “Or is this your theory as to what happened?”

  “Mostly theory,” Bast admitted. “There is strong evidence that it is a correct theory, though.”

  “I’ll skip to the interesting parts,” Gloria said with excitement. “The AI finally became powerful enough to defeat its creator race. It destroyed them for whatever reason a “perfect” machine could conceive. Bast, and all of Bast’s high philosophers, agree that any race carries the seeds of its own destruction. Nuclear weapons are one of those seeds in a race’s early years when it lives on a single planet.”

  “The Atom Wars on Earth,” Jon said.

  “Precisely,” Gloria said. “Those wars had the potential for wiping out humanity before it left its womb—Earth.”

  “And building super-strong AIs…?” Jon asked.

  “That seems to be an even worse danger than nuclear weapons,” Gloria said. “Bast and the high philosophers—Bast is a high philosopher, by the way.”

  “How wonderful,” Jon said.

  “Don’t be sarcastic, “Gloria chided. “Bast’s philosophic approach to us has greatly aided us so far.”

  “Okay, okay,” Jon said. “Just hurry up, will you? What’s the point of telling me all this?”

  “There are several points,” Gloria said. “Intelligent races appear to have several hurdles they need to leap in order to build an interstellar civilization. The first hurdle is the simple struggle for survival.”

  “Skip ahead,” Jon said.

  “The second great struggle appears to be nuclear weapons,” Gloria said.

  “The third is strong AIs?” asked Jon.

  “Yes.”

  “What’s the fourth hurdle?” Jon asked, intrigued.

  “As far as we know,” Bast said, interrupting, “there is no fourth hurdle.”

  “Wait a minute,” Jon said. “Are you trying to tell me no species has developed an interstellar civilization?”

  “That is precise,” Bast said.

  “But…” Jon said, thinking about that. “The cybership proves you wrong.”

  “Only in one particular,” Bast said. “And that particular leads to a strange conclusion. It is the Sacerdotal belief that only the cy
berships have an interstellar civilization. But that carries a heavy caveat. What is a civilization? Can it be a barbaric machine society whose only purpose is to eradicate all life, wherever that life is found?”

  “You’re saying the cyberships go around, committing genocide against all biological life forms?” Jon asked.

  “That is precise,” Bast said.

  “You mean ‘correct,’” Jon said. “That is correct.”

  “I scrape my forehead on the ground before you,” Bast said.

  “What?”

  “He’s thanking you,” Gloria said.

  “Oh,” Jon said. “Sure. No problem. Did the Annihilator slaughter the Sacerdotes?”

  “That is correct,” Bast said in a deep voice. “I may well be the last of my species. In my containment, I experienced many memories from many species. They, too, all perished before the raw might of the cyberships.”

  “What makes the machines so powerful?” Jon asked.

  Gloria made a scoffing noise. “The answer is terrible, Jon. It also explains so much of what we’ve gone through. It explains what happened to our ships, and it explains why our battlesuits still function.”

  “It is indeed a marvel,” Bast said, “that your very primitiveness is aiding you in your struggle against the Annihilator.”

  “Who are you calling primitive?” Jon asked.

  “In this instance, brutishness is a virtue,” Bast said. “Is that not ironic?”

  “What’s he mean?” Jon asked Gloria.

  “You’re not going to believe this,” she said. “It is so…strange. The Annihilator used a hyperspace drive to reach our system.”

  “That is precise—correct,” Bast said.

  “According to the properties of the hyperdrive,” Gloria said, “the FTL vessel had to drop out of hyperspace before it reached heavy gravitational bodies.”

  “Bodies such as a star?” asked Jon.

  “Exactly,” Gloria said. “That means the Annihilator dropped out of hyperspace at the edge of the Oort cloud or possibly at the edge of the Kuiper Belt.”

  “What difference does that make?” Jon asked.

  “Plenty,” Gloria said. “The farther back it entered our Solar System, the longer it had to study us. According to Bast, the computing core of the AI is incredibly advanced. It decoded our language, studied our transmissions and readied the worst transmission of the human race.”