Ancestral Machines

by Michael Cobley

  Sam knew that this was an attempt at discouragement by overabundance of information. She dipped into the avalanche of data, here and there, just to get a flavour, then settled down with the personnel files, both the crew’s own monthlies and Pyke’s assessments, and began assembling a report of sorts.

  Finishing with the Henkayan, Kref, she moved on to one crew member whose species had immediately marked him out, the Kiskashin, Oleg Qy-Kelitak. The reptiloid Kiskashin were known to be clannish and intensely conscious of tradition and hierarchy. In some regions of the greater interstellar region they were well known for their trading families and their extensive commercial interests, but in Earthsphere the Kiskashin had yet to establish a single offshoot-brokerage. Thus it was reasonable to speculate that this particular Kiskashin had either been exiled or had fled some dark shame or disgrace. But when she asked the ship AI for updated files the response was unexpected.

  “It is my sad duty to report that Oleg Qy-Kelitak is deceased–he and Engineer Hammadi both suffocated when this vessel was hijacked by hostile forces.”

  “How tragic.”

  “Due to the state of shipboard systems I was unable to conduct detailed autopsies–Engineer Hammadi was given a swift space burial in accordance with the strictures of his faith, and Oleg’s remains were hastily consigned to cryostasis storage. Since then, however, a few anomalies associated with the Kiskashin’s body have come to my attention but without the captain’s permission I cannot investigate them.”

  Sam frowned. “Are you able to tell me about these anomalies?”

  “Certainly. Data from the stasis canister’s monitor systems show a complete absence of the organic compounds that usually transpire from a dead body, even one kept in cryostasis. Also, the temperature is slightly and constantly higher than it should be. Speculation–cellular degeneration is not taking place and the body’s core temperature is being maintained by some unknown autonomic agency.”

  “You mean the Kiskashin could still be alive?” Sam said. “I’ve heard that they can go into a hibernation state if wounded–could it be that?”

  “No, the slow trance pseudo-hibernation exhibits definite, perceptible heartbeats and respiratory activity. This is an entirely different form of biophysical arrest…”

  Sam’s attention was broken by footsteps and voices in the corridor outside the bridge. A moment later an anxious G’Brozen Mav entered and came over to the command console.

  “Lieutenant,” he began. “I hope you have been able to occupy your time well since I left.”

  “The ship intelligence has been very helpful,” she said.

  “Any communications received from your colleague?”

  “No, not one,” she said. “I admit that I am starting to be concerned about his safety. What about your mission? Any successes?”

  “Two of the six cadre leaders dealing with the estates agreed to see me straight away,” he said. “One refused my proposal outright, the other offered only qualified support, and I was on my way to meet with a third when I received some disturbing news.”

  By now the hooded Toolbearer Hechec had arrived on the bridge and looked anxious on hearing Mav’s words.

  “When you say disturbing,” Hechec said, “do you anticipate minor worries or a major crisis?”

  G’Brozen Mav arched an eyebrow. “I have heard from separate sources that Zavri troops have been spotted in Armag City and that a Chainer patrol was ambushed on the main highway by an Avang squad. In broad daylight.”

  “So, not minor worries but not yet confirmed as something worse. Yet.”

  The Chainer leader smiled thinly at this. “We always knew that lack of airborne forces was our main weakness, which is why we need to leave here, cross the valley and investigate the ambush location. If we can use this vessel to hunt down the Avang, if indeed they turn out to be responsible, then the news would strengthen the rebels’ resolve.”

  “And let everyone know that you’re alive and giving the Shuskar a bloody nose,” said Sam.

  “Which would be helpful when it comes to persuading cadre leaders of the advantages of being in your camp,” added Hechec.

  G’Brozen Mav gave an amused nod. “Such unanimity is gratifying. Now, let us be on our way–a journey across the valley should not take very long.”

  Sam sat back, doodling notes on her slimpad, while the diminutive Hechec delivered several verbal commands to the ship AI. Moments later the Scarabus was rising from its high mountain hiding place, a steady ascent until it reached roughly two thousand feet then moved in a descending curve whose end point was a wooded ridge overlooking the ambush site. All told, from liftoff to the new landing spot the short flight took slightly less than ten minutes. As the Scarabus settled onto the bushy undergrowth of the ridge, images of the ambush scene began appearing on Sam’s screen. They showed a portion of the highway, a couple of overturned and smouldering vehicles, and a number of dead bodies. There were close-ups of wounds, weapon damage to the armoured cars, and marks on the ground.

  “Impressive,” she said. “Sophisticated sensors for a trader ship.”

  “Actually, the bulk of the data is streaming from a probe that I despatched just after we lifted off.” Toolbearer Hechec frowned as he studied the screen before him. “We were told that the patrol consisted of three Gruxen rebels and five Chainers from Emestra, and the probe has tallied only three bodies in the vicinity…”

  “And they’re Gruxen,” said G’Brozen Mav as he studied the data on another screen.

  “Sadly, yes.”

  “So it looks likely that the ambushers were Avang?”

  “Both vehicles were disabled by heavy-calibre one-shots,” said Hechec. “The Gruxen are all dead from toxinated needle rounds…”

  “And they’ve taken hostages,” finished G’Brozen Mav.

  “Why is that significant?” Sam said.

  “Avang fighters have a special brand of cruelty bred into them,” the Chainer leader said. “Their society–if a thousand tribelets perpetually at each other’s throats can be called such–is rotten with it. But then, they did learn all they know from the Shuskar, including methods of interrogation and torture and how to take pleasure in it.”

  Sam nodded sombrely. “They’ve learned how to feed off others’ agony,” she said.

  Nodding, G’Brozen Mav then leaned in closer to Hechec. “They must have a squad carrier or similar to get their captives out of the vicinity so fast.”

  “The sensors have detected emission traces consistent with pyrafuel engines, my leader,” said the Toolbearer. “There is a trail, leading south-east…” He stiffened, frowned. “Wait, there is a priority connection request for you coming through on several channels.” He glanced at Mav. “It’s from T’Loskin Rey.”

  The Chainer leader looked irritated for a moment, then shrugged. “Any of these channels secure? Acknowledge it on the least insecure one and put him up on the lieutenant’s screen.”

  That’s all right, she thought. I can catch up with the mysterious dead-or-just-sleeping Kiskashin later.

  She pushed herself out of the workstation couch, nodded to G’Brozen Mav and retreated a pace as he slipped in to take her place. The face of T’Loskin Rey appeared as he was settling in.

  “Rey,” he said tersely.

  “Mav–thank you for accepting my call.”

  “Is there a problem, Rey?” G’Brozen Mav maintained a composed, serious demeanour. “How goes the garrison blockade?”

  “Circumstances have changed,” said T’Loskin Rey. “The Governor’s garrison troops have managed to break out and push us back towards the city–we have taken up positions about half a mile from the garrison and are holding against further attacks.”

  “How?”

  “They used remounted air-defence batteries to blow holes in our blockade before we could knock them out. Also, my scouts have reported sightings of Avang hunters leading the breakout units, corroborated by frontliners who have come face to face with them.�
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  “Are you in need of assistance, Rey? Is that what this is about?”

  “We are experiencing… difficulties, no more, but—”

  “I can bring my ship to you in a matter of minutes, Rey–its weapons can deal with the garrison units and their Avang advisors, but I want something in return.”

  On screen, T’Loskin Rey had a sullen, cornered look. “Name it.”

  “Confirm me as joint leader of all Chainer forces throughout the Warcage, subject to ratification of the Chainer council and plebiscite—”

  “Are you insane? How can the Council carry out a plebiscite of all ranks while hostilities are continuing?”

  “Those are my terms–do you accept?”

  “Accepted.” T’Loskin Rey’s eyes burnt with resentment. “Now get here with all haste.”

  The screen went dead and G’Brozen Mav leaped to his feet, laughing.

  “We have him, hand and tongue! Hechec, set a course for the garrison locale at maximum speed.”

  The Toolbearer nodded and linked the data control spikes of one “hand” to a nearby console. A moment later he said, “Course laid in, my leader, thrusters engaged, and we are flying at target-sensor altitude, according to my screen.”

  Sam sank back into her seat as G’Brozen Mav went over to Hechec’s station. The bridge of the Scarabus seemed half deserted, with the pale morning light coming in through the unfiltered viewport casting some sharp shadows over the equipment and the empty hooded workstations. Memories of past experiences aboard Earthsphere ships made her imagine how this one might look with a full crew rather than just Mav and his handful of followers.

  Am I actually going to survive this mission? she wondered. Why hasn’t that stupid Construct drone made contact yet?

  “Sensors have detected a small craft taking off from inside Armag City,” said Hechec. “Launch point was close to the Lord-Governor’s residence.”

  “So Lord Gyr-Matu has finally realised how hopeless his position is,” said G’Brozen Mav. “Good–farewell to another useless bloodsucking noble.”

  “Interesting–the craft’s profile seems overpowered for conventional civil authority forces… Ah, wait–systems have picked up a second craft, a small one- or two-seater, lifting off from wooded hills outside the city.”

  Sam turned to look round and saw the Toolbearer frown as he paused, then glanced at Mav who was standing nearby. “We have just received another priority call from T’Loskin Rey.”

  Toolbearer Hechec stood aside and G’Brozen Mav took his place. A moment later Rey was looking out from the screen, features creased in a smile.

  “We’re still a minute or two from your location,” Mav said. “Are you still holding?”

  “Just thought to tell you that the situation is no longer urgent–only moments ago all the garrison forces abandoned their positions and retreated back into the garrison, so you can take your time, Mav!”

  “I assume that our agreement still stands,” said Mav.

  “Oh, I wouldn’t call it an agreement,” T’Loskin Rey said. “More like topics for further discussion. For example, I can confirm that there is an opening for a second-in-command…”

  Sam was only half listening. Her attention was focused on the broad sensor sweep of the valley now currently visible on her own screen. As she watched a bright point rose from building clusters outside Armag City–almost immediately it was tagged with a little text flag and a tiny arc of stats.

  “That’s another departure,” said Hechec, who had moved to another station. “Probably Avang…” He leaned forward. “And a fourth…”

  These aren’t random flights, Sam thought. They’re part of a pattern… of evacuation!

  “Hechec,” she said hurriedly. “Are the sensors registering any major ships or vessels in the area?”

  “Long-range sensors are tracking one large vessel which dropped out of orbit several minutes ago.”

  “What’s its altitude and heading?”

  “In the last few seconds it switched course to descend through the cloud layer and is about to pass directly overhead.”

  “You’ve got to take evasive action,” Sam told Hechec, then turned to G’Brozen Mav who was still arguing with Rey. “They’re going to hit the city and nearby rebel positions! We need to get out of here!”

  The Chainer leader was on the point of reacting angrily to her interruption, but then the voice of the ship AI cut in. “Unidentified missiles launched from unidentified ship–multiple ground targets–time to first-wave impact 8.7 seconds–recommend crisis-mode evasive action…”

  “Do it!” yelled G’Brozen Mav.

  On the screen a puzzled T’Loskin Rey looked away as a subordinate hurried up to whisper something. The Chainer leader only had time to bellow “Take cover!” before there was a thunderous crashing sound. Everything on the screen blurred and there was a bright glare. Then there was a second explosion, so loud that it distorted the audio feed. Then the screen went dead, but Sam could see a red-orange light pouring in through the viewport as beneath them the valley burnt.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  The immense curved grandeur of the planet Armag was spread out below, its intricate patchwork of landmasses and oceans obscured here and there by complex weather systems pushing, streaming and gyring in perpetual combinations. At that particular moment the drone Rensik’s shimmership was in a stable orbit and passing directly over an island archipelago a few hundred miles east of the continent where Armag City was located. Rensik might have spared the magnificent spectacle a glance, were he not at that moment keeping his sensors on the ship’s effectuator arms as they lashed and flailed at him with their grab-tool tips. He himself was hanging safely off the small ship’s stern, connected by two metres of tether improvised from a spool of multipurpose cable retrieved from the materials locker.

  Then the arms went limp and drifted, which told him that the four-minute cycle was now in its abeyance phase. He only had two minutes to get back inside the Construct craft, check on the Human female, run another test or two, then be back outside before the assimilation phase started up again. Letting the tether spool run he used his own manipulators to clamber swiftly around the bulbous hull to the gaping hatch. The impermeable containment forcefield was still in place so the field generation systems were still unsubverted. Sensors fixed near the hatch tracked his approach and the field deformed around the drone’s casing, allowing him to enter the small compartment.

  The female Human, who called herself Dervla, sat at the tiny fold-down table, legs akimbo, one arm folded against her chest, the other raised and laid flat against the system and conduit panelling, held in place by the strange ribbed tendons that had grown out of her flesh. Rensik could see that the outgrowths were working their way up the arm and would soon start protruding from her shoulder.

  Her head lolled forward and some saliva drooled from her mouth. Glancing up she saw the drone approach and smiled weakly.

  “Eh, ’s my little robot friend…” Her speech came out hoarse and slurred. “Got any ideas yet?… Whassat bassard done t’ me?…”

  Aware that time was running out, Rensik directed a coded light pulse at the bioscanner he had epoxied to an overhead panel rib twenty-four cycles ago, and got an encrypted lightburst of data in response.

  “Still working on the problem, Dervla,” he said. “As soon as I figure this out you’ll be the first to know.”

  Eight seconds left. Dervla opened her mouth as if to speak, something glinted down in her throat and her head slumped forward again. Rensik was already heading for the hatch propelled by his own microjets. He could actually feel the assimilation phase kick in, like a palpable wave of voracity rushing after him as he plunged through the containment field. The tether spool unreeled to its maximum as his inertia carried him outwards then round towards the stern. He braked with the microjets and reeled in the tether, careful to stay out of range of the effectuator arms which struck and strained towards him with eager, mindless hung
er.

  Mindless but not indiscriminate. During her time aboard the Shuskar vessel, the Human had clearly been infected with some kind of highly advanced nanovirus which was in the process of rewriting her body from the nervous system out–except that the process had now reached an intermediate stage beyond which it could not progress, stuck in a holding pattern where it alternated between vigorous grasping and still dormancy. Clearly, the nanovirus was modifying the Human, converting her into a host for some kind of biomech parasite, and it seemed that Rensik’s electromagnetic emissions, from the powered systems of his shell, qualified him as a viable match.

  So, not indiscriminate but still wide of the mark. The steady accumulation of data, and his cogitations and reflections, sparked off waves of datasweeps in his own core memories, eventually flagging up a reference to an archived document which he had acquired a long time ago. Close study might well set more speculation in motion but there was no time for that right now–all resources had to be devoted to finding a way to neutralise the nanovirus without killing the Human. And even killing her on purpose might not work–for some of these nanoviruses, death of the host was just another minor obstacle.

  Hanging off the stern of the ship–of his own ship!–Rensik went over the bioscanner data, complete with latest update, and saw what he had seen before: steady growth in complexity and connectivity. There had been none of this at the start, soon after their escape from the Shuskar ship, not until Rensik began examining the Human with a variety of probes and scanners. Initially he had speculated that one of his instruments had emitted some tiny blip of energy which had triggered the nanovirus to alter its state but he was less sure of that now.

  Realising that all the data-gathering had been largely fruitless, he decided to instigate a reappraisal of the entire episode, this time taking it back to his first encounter with the woman aboard the Shuskar ship. He reran the visual record, from when he entered the detention chamber with the transparent cells to when he left, bearing the insensible Human in his gripping fields. And the answer was there, clear and plain to see–the nanovirus was not triggered by Rensik’s instrumentation but by the act of removing the female Human from her confinement. She had not been connected to any wires or intravenous tubing so there must have been a localised suppression field and when he removed her from its influence the virus awoke and began proliferating.