by James Murdo
She willed her body to speak. “There are hundreds… maybe more.”
She was dimly aware of a reply, although unsure as to when exactly it had been asked. The craft-lect wanted to know where they were.
“Most of them are… around the sentinels. They stretch far…”
A group of them caught her attention.
“Some of them are expanding… slowly… three.”
The craft-lect wanted to know why.
“It’s a… response.”
She focused on another point that was not expanding and tried to probe it. However close she tried to push her presence, the points always seemed far away. As she was about to re-divert her attention back to the expanding points, the point she had focused on felt… palpable. Strangely, in her current state, she could feel it like something akin to the sensation of touch pressing against her body. She pressed against it, and it immediately grew – faster than the other three. Pressing harder, it expanded even quicker. Worried, she relieved the pressure and it sank back.
She waited, but nothing happened, and so delicately tried to press it again – this time, nothing happened, it was unresponsive. She was about to try again when faint undulations began to emanate from the expanding points to the sentinels. A moment later, the spill-over that she was keeping track of from the sentinels became more furious, in their direction.
She withdrew.
“The sentinels are communicating with the points.”
“Reinforcements?” One-oh said.
“I don’t know.”
“For an attack?” 998 said.
[I’ll take us out.]
“No, wait!” Gil shouted, clearly surprising One-oh, who raised his eyebrows.
“We need to leave,” One-oh said levelly at her.
[There is no choi–]
“Gateways!” she exclaimed.
“Gateways?” One-oh said.
“Yes, that’s what they are. The undulations between them… they’re the same.”
“Perhaps they may have requested help. But if these are AB gateways of some kind–”
“I think I can open them!” She was tired, and almost out of breath, but also excited.
“Gil,” 998 said. “It’s one thing to recognise what they are, or might be, but under the current circumstances, it would be imprudent to–”
“What if… what if this is important? We may never get the chance again!”
[You suggest you can open a gateway, and we should travel through it?]
“Yes!”
“But they’re already opening, if we are correct and the sentinels have help coming–”
“Yes, One-oh, but I was… better. It’s hard to explain, I will try later.”
“Where do they lead?”
[Three gravitational singularities have appeared, near to the sentinels ahead.]
She did not know what the craft-lect meant, although that could wait. The craft-lect created an image before them, depicting what it had detected. Three dark masses.
[The event horizons are growing, although minimal gravitational tugs detected.]
“They look different this way,” Gil said, although she was not surprised. Even without engulfing herself completely in the sensespace, they were significant enough that she could still sense them. They were what she had found.
“Communicating… and travelling through singularities,” One-oh said.
“That’s not supposed to be poss–” 998 started.
[Try.]
Without another second’s deliberation, Gil applied pressure to one of the other points she had chosen at random.
[Another singularity has been detected. It’s growing more rapidly than the others.]
Gil began to sweat.
“Let’s hope we aren’t torn apart,” One-oh said, helpfully.
32
APALU
[I’m regretting we weren’t able to search the mining station first.]
[There’ll be time for that afterwards, Apalu, if the station survives. Anyway, it’s not a mining station.]
[You know what I mean.]
[Always.]
[What do you think our chances are?]
[Moderate, I’m looking forward to this.]
[If we don’t–]
[Yeah, yeah. Look, let’s flitting do this. Let’s show it what a craft-lect-data-lect combination from the mighty Wanderer civilisation do. I don’t give a flit who it is, ex-Wanderer or what, let’s show it how big a mistake it’s made!]
[I agree.]
[Well fancy that.]
With that, Apalu sped out of its obscured position, throwing destruction ahead of it. They had not been able to move about too significantly for danger of giving their plans away to their opponent. If Apalu was honest, it was excited about what was going to happen, keen to see the results of their efforts.
As Apalu sped to the side of the field, it fired suppressive gravity cocoons ahead of the perimeter asteroids, before following up with discrete antigraviton bursts targeted at the asteroid cores. Each of them sublimed into a fine mist that was neatly collected by the cocoons. With the mist prepared, Apalu flung a barrage of micro-singularities, created using matter quietly excavated from the asteroids it had initially been hiding behind, directly in front of each targeted collection. The micro-singularities, with radii many times smaller than that of a proton, evaporated almost instantaneously. Before disappearing, they precisely accelerated the mist towards them. The result was that a sparse atmosphere washed over the majority of the orbital ahead.
With the mist still washing over the orbital, Apalu contributed millions of self-sufficient nanospheres, needle-whips and spin-hygens to its ebb, wafting after it and layering the field. Flicking the bloom behind it into hasty action, Apalu dived in behind, riding the wave of unleashed power. They had been careful not to cause too much destruction to the mining station, but they also did not want that to be obvious. Their opponent probably knew they intended to search it, but there was no point in affirming this. It would be admitting to a weakness.
[So far so good, Apalu. Look, some of the traps have already been triggered.]
Up ahead, in some of the further regions of the field where the front of the mist had travelled, ruses of varying dangerousness revealed themselves.
[Doesn’t look too bad, does it, DeVoid?]
[Hmm.]
[Maybe whoever we’re facing isn’t a threat at all?]
[Apalu, come on, don’t be so naïve. Why do you think it left those traps?]
[I’m merely saying–]
[In the name of the Enclave, you’re lucky I’m here! It doesn’t want you thinking it’s smart, does it?]
Apalu did not reply immediately.
[You’re right.]
[Obviously.]
*
Apalu continued weaving around the nearer asteroids, slowly working its way in. The tail-end weaponry unleashed at the back of the mist was now spread across much of the orbital, and set to periodically flare up a disturbance. To cause distractions. Many of the speculated hiding places for the enemy and identified traps had been destroyed, but it still lurked in wait – undiscovered.
Apalu advanced further into the field. As battles went, this was at the longer end of the spectrum, timewise. It released the secession-drones, as smart as automated could be, each of them camouflaged as a craft-lect in control of a Wanderer ship. They spread out, before diving forward, the aim being to create a melee of confusion. All of them launched conventional warfare before them, in so far as each had been designed, as well as blasting out signal interference and electronic viral loads. If a simple biological had witnessed the attack, it would have seemed as though an entire Wanderer armada had appeared at one side of the field.
It was unlikely their opponent would be fooled by such trickery. However, it helped sow the atmosphere of chaos and misperception. In space battles, whole arrays of complex tactics were often employed for a single millisecond’s advantage that could lead to abs
olute victory. Mostly everything, despite outward appearances, was meticulously planned following multiple scenario analyses.
DeVoid was able to scrutinise the situation more rapidly than Apalu, and provided the craft-lect with a running analysis.
[Nothing yet. This lect’s good. Wherever it is, I can’t find it. The traps we’ve set off have been randomly placed, nothing points in any direction I can discern. It’s conducted itself perfectly.]
[You sound impressed.]
[Pah! It had the element of surprise, and planning. It’s good, but not great.]
[Still, it’s not good for us–]
[I wouldn’t be so hasty. It helps us understand who we’re dealing with. It must be something very familiar with us, not a huge ask given most of the space-faring galaxy is. But, I’d say our earlier suspicions are correct. It’s a Wanderer, I think.]
[But how does that help?]
[I’m working on that.]
The field was enormous, but the drone-mirages began to make significant inroads into it. The destruction of the first was spectacular. It appeared to have successfully been mistaken for a fully-fledged ship by a trap, and was squashed by a powerful electromagnetic containment field, before being ricocheted around at speeds that would make N-SOL travel seem slow. It was eventually allowed to dissipate back into free space again, in plasma form, completely disintegrated into its constituent ions and electrons. If that happened to Apalu, the craft-lect wondered whether it would have had powerful enough electromagnetic shields to defend itself.
[That’s concerning.]
[More interesting.]
[Anything more tangible, DeVoid?]
[I’m working on it.]
Apalu was surprised they had not yet flushed out the enemy. It considered the possibility that the traps had been set, and the initiator had decided to vacate before they arrived, until its attention was taken by an asteroid being directed their way.
[How did that happen?]
[You tell me, it’s your ship.]
[It came out of nowhere, I barely had time to move.]
[Even more interesting.]
[Is it still playing with us, DeVoid?]
[Hmm. Good question.]
[What? DeVoid, now’s not the time for philosophising–]
[No, I’m being serious. It may be doing exactly that. Testing us.]
[Testing us?]
[Yes. Seeing if we’re worthy.]
[For what?]
[Full-on confrontation.]
[What?]
Apalu dodged another asteroid that had hurtled, unannounced, worryingly close.
[If it’s familiar with us, it’s playing with us and setting traps for us, then I believe I have our suspect.]
[Would you like to share that information?]
[Those are clear traits of spear-lects.]
[Spear-lects?]
[Yes.]
[Not possible. They’re gone.]
[Come on, Apalu.]
[You’re being serious?]
[Afraid so.]
[Bet you’re happy your c-automs are still asleep. Wouldn’t want one of them spontaneously mutating into a b-autom–]
[I thought you said you were being serious.]
Detecting the asteroid too late to manoeuvre aside, Apalu unleashed a plasma bolt, vaporising it.
[They’re getting closer, DeVoid.]
[They’d never be able to harm you, even if it sent thousands this way.]
[I know, but it’s gearing up for something bigger. All of this implies–]
[Implies? Don’t presume it implies anything. That may be what it wants us to think.]
Tens of asteroids appeared. DeVoid emitted a plasma cascade to deal with them.
[Alright, change of plan Apalu. Follow this.]
DeVoid sent new commands.
33
DEVOID
The ship had as good as stopped, according to DeVoid’s calculations of tube entity densities. DeVoid communicated this to Tor.
“What now?”
[We wait.]
“For what?”
[Whatever happens next.]
“Okay.”
[Nervous?]
“A bit, I think so. The tubes… do you think they’re safe?”
[No clue, sorry. I’ve not got anything I can compare them to in my databanks, besides the obvious.]
“I don’t–”
[Hmm.]
“What?”
[The tubes have stopped gathering.]
“No more behind us?”
[Or anywhere else.]
“Just now?”
[No additions for a while, actually.]
“No more in front?”
[Tor, I’m not flitting stupid! I’ve said no more.]
“How many?”
[Altogether?]
“Yes.”
[Millions.]
“Oh…”
[And they’re set at different distances from us.]
“Where do they end?”
[Right up to the edge of my perception. There may be more beyond that.]
“That’s… frightening.”
[Least it’s not your body directly on the line.]
“It kind of is…”
[The thing is, the density of tube end-points is consistent. The volume taken up is huge. Whatever–]
“And they’re all pointed at us?”
[Why go saying things like that?]
“It’s–”
[Like we’re in the middle of an experiment?]
“I was going to say daunting.”
[That’s valid.]
“But the Cross-Prophet…”
[Believe me, this will probably be the last and only time we’re trusting anything the flitting Cross-Prophet says. If we make it out of here, that is. What an end to our adventures this would be, what an anti-climax.]
“Come on, DeVoid, we’ve only just stopped.”
[And? Excuse me, do you realise the danger we are in?]
“Something will happen.”
Tor crossed his arms confidently.
[When?]
“It has to!”
[Why?]
“Because…”
[Go on. Tell me, why?]
He uncrossed his arms and thrust his palms out, gesticulating slowly as he spoke.
“Gil… she needs us…”
[So?]
“Why would the Cross-Prophet have lied?”
[Why wouldn’t it? Your question is entirely worthless.]
“But what would be the point?”
[How should I know?]
“We have to help Gil!”
Tor’s voice was raised. DeVoid could tell he was failing to remain as calm as he had wanted. His heart was pounding faster than usual in his chest. Still, DeVoid could not help itself.
[Tor, we’ve probably been duped by some AB joke-of-a-remnant into stranding ourselves in N-SOL space. Perhaps this is what being lost in N-SOL space is, and we’re simply the latest victims.]
“But it doesn’t make sense! Telling us so much, asking you for a copy of yourself… it doesn’t!”
[Why should an incomprehensibly alien mind make any sense to you? Or even me?]
“Because… because we’re sentient! We can communicate, we can–”
[About that, you’re lucky the Wanderers are so reasonable, for your reference. Very lucky!]
“Lucky?”
[The Yul’nka Empire, if you had happened to wind up in one of their ships, do you know what they’d have done to you?]
“No–”
[STUFF YOU WOULDN’T EVEN UNDERSTAND, FLESH-BAG!]
Tor appeared as though he was about to shout his response back, until he stopped and steadied his breathing. After taking a few deep breaths, he continued.
“What do you mean?”
[And they’re considered peaceful.]
“Okay… look, DeVoid, the point is–”
[Believe me, I’m still working on it. This conversation barely features on
my capacity-allocation registry. Don’t you worry.]
DeVoid was telling the truth. Alongside its conversation with Tor, it was monitoring external events, as best it could. Something was happening. The ends of the tubes closest to one side of its hull were swelling. They were becoming enlarged compared with the rest of their length. A couple of thousand, in all. Growing voids within N-SOL space. DeVoid had thought it best to keep Tor mid-conversation while this happened, and had purposely riled him. It was better than informing him about their potentially imminent demise.
“How…”
DeVoid let that small part of itself deal with Tor’s latest pleas for more understanding. His attempts to make DeVoid see reason. DeVoid truly liked their discourse. It liked provoking Tor, in good humour, of course. Admittedly, it had become a little overenthusiastic in the current conversation, but it was a welcome, minor distraction, for them both.
The swelled tube-ends started to pulsate. Only a couple of them, at first, but then ten percent, thirty, sixty, all. Each one of them. They pulsated with a low, unwavering frequency. As they pulsated, they drew some of the matter of N-SOL space near them, into them. Or it merged with them, something along those lines. Impossible to distinguish. N-SOL space matter was sucked into them, on a small scale, but it was enough to make them blurry to DeVoid.
DeVoid was not afraid. Rather, it was intrigued. Despite its jovial protestations to Tor, it badly wanted to help Gil. After all, their coupling had instilled DeVoid with as much a fervour for the quest as Tor.
34
GIL
They were seated in the table-chamber, immersed in a serene calm. Gil was tired, the effort had been draining.
[No sentinels detected.]
“Absolutely fascinating,” One-oh said, as the lights from three c-automs above him shone across his face.
During their travel into the dark gateway, the transparent wall in the table-chamber had become pitch black for what seemed like a couple of seconds before the new spacescape flashed visible – they were close to a dark, orange planet. It looked barren. Gil was surprised that she had not experienced much through the sensespace. She could feel the gateway, but it was different to what she had expected. She also realised she had opened the gateway without entering the sensespace completely. Her abilities were growing.