by B. V. Larson
There, I saw Adrienne in her usual seat, three computer tablets neatly lined up in front of her. Rivulets of smart metal like mercury threads connected them to each other and the table and then on to the ship’s network. An empty cup sat off to one side, and some of her hair had escaped from its pins to fall over her face as she stared downward, so she didn’t see me come in.
Pouring two cups of coffee and doctoring hers the way she liked it, white with no sugar, I placed one in front of the tablets as she tapped at their screens. It looked like she was working on some kind of technical schematic.
“Thanks,” she said, looking up and brushing her hair back. It slid forward again to frame her face, and for a moment I was back at the Academy, sitting across from her sister. She must have seen it in my eyes, because she dropped her head to hide behind the cornsilk cascade again. I didn’t know whether she was upset, sad or something else. Women are hard to read at the best of times.
Part of me wished I could move on, but part of me wanted to cling to Olivia forever. What were those stages of grief? I’d moved quickly through denial and anger. Bargaining didn’t seem to come into play, so Adrienne and I orbited each other between depression and acceptance. The only remedy I knew was to keep busy, focusing on the problems at hand and those of the future.
“So, what’re you working on?” I asked.
“The eggheads’ theoretical model of Litho ship structure based on Marvin’s data and their own researches.”
“What have they found?” I craned forward to get a better view, and she turned one tablet around to face me.
“It’s the weirdest form of life I’ve ever encountered. The closest analogy I can come up with is computers and software, or maybe demonic possession of rocks.”
“Those are two wildly different metaphors.”
“I know. Let me explain by starting from the beginning—when Lithos first infect a world. Let’s say it’s one that’s part hot dry desert and part wet with plants and oceans. Drop some silico-nanites in the desert and they start replicating, organizing the rocks, and soil. They absorb and store sunlight and all sorts of radiation, anything that can provide energy, including oxidizing petrocarbons like oil, natural gas, and coal. They use that energy to live, reproduce and spread. Where they find pockets of wetness, they heat the surrounding rocks and boil the water away, as we would drain swamps to make dry land. That kills all the biotic life, of course.”
“Sounds like an infection all right.” I sipped my bad factory-synthesized coffee, wishing I could invite Adrienne to the captain’s cabin to brew some real cappuccino on the machine there.
“It is. When it gets deep enough and finds geothermal heat, it spreads even faster. When it finds metallic ores, it goes around them, like we treat rugged badlands. It’s not that they can’t deal with them, but to them, it’s impassable, inhospitable territory. Eventually, in a matter of only a decade or two, they will render most of the planet uninhabitable by biotic life. Of course, if the world started as a hot waterless rock, it could take only months, while an ice-covered moon might be an impossibility.”
I drummed my fingers on the table. “Remember Tullax 6?”
“How could I forget?” Adrienne unconsciously rubbed her arm where the dirt—the Litho—had grabbed her.
“Your uncle said the scientists believed that world had once been life-bearing. I think that was the Pandas’ homeworld. The Macros had conquered it at some point, or nearly so. Some Pandas escaped, or maybe they had already colonized Tullax 4. When the Macros clobbered them, they created, or perhaps found and modified, the Litho nanites and used them as an anti-Macro weapon. Unlike conventional weapons, the Lithos turned out to be wildly successful, but they couldn’t be stopped once they got deep into the planet. Eventually, the Lithos terraformed Tullax 6 into their kind of place, destroying its usefulness for the Pandas.”
Adrienne nodded enthusiastically. “Then the Pandas rebuilt their society on Tullax 4, which is too wet for Lithos. They used the Lithos to kill off the Macros on their moon, and the moon of Tullax 5 where the other ring is. The remaining Macros went through that ring to escape.”
“Then either the Pandas went through and seeded more Lithos, or the Lithos had achieved sentience by that time and followed the Macros through, taking over the Matterhorn system.” I chuckled. “The Pandas must have crapped their shorts when the Lithos developed intelligence enough to build spaceships.”
“So the Macros must have escaped through the Matterhorn 7 ring, if they escaped at all. That's the same ring we’re trying to go through.”
I nodded. “It all seems to make sense, though without confirmation it’s all just speculation.”
At that moment Valiant’s voice reverberated from the walls. “Captain to the bridge. Captain to the bridge.”
“On my way,” I called. I looked into Adrienne’s worried eyes as she stood up with me, grabbing her tablets. “Maybe we’ll find out soon. I just hope the answers don’t kill us.”
-30-
When I reached the bridge, I took a look at Hansen. He looked a little glum, but I could tell he had fully recovered from our pool game. With the medical bay to assist, his injuries had already healed enough for him to sit comfortably. He gave me a cool nod from the helm.
“I’ve got the watch, Hansen,” I announced.
“Captain has the watch.”
“What have you got, helmsman?” I asked as I stepped up to the holotank.
“The first of the four Litho cruisers is coming into long range in one minute.”
“We’ve been hailing them in their language?”
Hansen shrugged. “I’m flying the ship.”
Adrienne left the ops section and came to my side.
“We’ve been transmitting friendly packets periodically,” she said, “but so far, there’s been no response.”
I examined the holotank. We were in the same lens formation again, perfectly set up to annihilate the enemy with at least a thirteen to one advantage in firepower.
“They still haven’t moved to counter our formation. They’re acting senselessly, throwing themselves away. I don’t get it.”
“Maybe they don’t really want to kill us,” Adrienne said as she took a seat. “Maybe our diplomacy has had some effect. Could it be an honor thing?”
“I don’t know…they’re coming straight for us.” I frowned. “Try one more time. Transmit: peace desire, truce, confirmation insistence.”
We waited and waited.
“In range,” Hansen announced.
“Stand by,” I said.
Several more tense minutes passed as they advanced into the teeth of our waiting guns.
Hansen said, “Sir, the Litho cruiser is entering range of our medium lasers and our heavy APs, and we’re in theirs. We have to fire or we’re giving them the first punch.”
I gripped the ring of metal around the hototank tightly, feeling my fingers create indentations.
“Dammit. Why can’t they just be reasonable? We’re going to have to slaughter them. Gunners, shift to APs but hold your fire. Main lasers, defocus and fire several low-powered shots into them. Let’s light them up with a few spot-welds first.”
“Main lasers fired. No effect. Sir, they’ve opened fire. Number five laser damaged.”
Frustrated, I finally decided I had to give the order.
“Full coordinated salvo, open fire on my mark. Mark.” Lights dimmed as the entire power output of the generators plus a chunk of the capacitors pumped through our antiproton beams, reaching out to strike the enemy in one hammer blow.
On the main screen the optical view whited out, while the synthesized radar picture showed the front half of the mountain-sized ship vaporizing. It simply disappeared, leaving the ragged back half spinning through space like a rogue comet.
The hope monkey had gotten to me, I realized. Dad used to talk about the psychological phenomenon he’d often battled. We humans have a flaw in our minds that seduces us into believing wh
at we want to believe, instead of what the hard evidence indicates. Now and again hope came through, but more often than not, it resulted in disaster and despair. Hardening my heart, I substituted anger for sympathy.
“We tried to make peace,” I said. “We did our part. They had every chance. Now, it’s war.”
I could feel Adrienne’s eyes on me, but I ignored her. Now was not the time for recriminations or second thoughts. Somehow, even when enemies are trying to kill you, it’s hard to burn them down when you know they have no chance. Machine gunners in World War One and Coalition bomber pilots in the Gulf War all reported struggling with shame at killing helpless fighters. But if you spent too much time worrying about it, you wouldn't be worth a damn.
I suppose I should’ve been happy that I struggled at all. Anyone who kills without a shred of remorse is likely a monster. But remorse or not, more killing was inevitable, and if I had to be the guy to give the orders, so be it. The only other choice was to keep running and lose the opportunity. Besides, I told myself, the Lithos were death machines, just like Macros. It didn't make any sense to mourn a machine.
“Second cruiser coming into range.”
“Switch to lasers. Fire as they enter extreme ranges.” I wanted to save power and give the capacitors time to recharge, as well as let the gunners have more practice. There was always the chance that the Lithos would veer off from disaster and decide to talk. The Crustaceans had to face annihilation before finally accepting an alliance. Maybe if the Lithos got pummeled badly enough…
No dice. We mowed them down like grass on a golf green. The lasers hit lightly at long range, and the Lithos broke apart into smaller ships in response. All that did was provide us with more target practice. I was glad to see that my crew seemed steady and competent, not jubilant like they’d been during our earlier narrow escapes. To me, that meant the fires of combat were forging them into professionals.
I realized that applied to me, too.
At some point during the battle, Adrienne must have slipped out. I didn’t like it, but I understood. Still, I had to at least contemplate reprimanding my friend who was also my ops officer for abandoning her post. I reminded myself that she hadn't gone through the rigorous training required to handle a situation like this. At least she wasn’t really needed in a static beat-down, but it set a bad example.
Fortunately, Adrienne came back in to stand beside me as we destroyed the last Litho ship, which had broken itself down into snowflakes. Not one of them reached our hull. Face set, Adrienne was all business as we mopped up the last of them.
As if on cue, the main Litho fleet began to move the moment we’d destroyed the task force. The first of many ships disappeared into the tunnel that served as the entrance into the hollow moon.
“That answers our question,” I said, “they’re going to turtle-up inside their planetoid.”
The second ship arrowed down and vanished inside the sphere.
“Like bees ducking into their hive,” Adrienne said, staring raptly at the holotank’s display. “Are we really going to follow them in?”
“Maybe,” I said, then shrugged. “Probably. I’m not sure yet, to tell the truth. Valiant, hail Marvin. Tell him Captain Riggs wants to talk with Captain Marvin.” If we were to follow the Lithos inside the hollow moon, we would need everything going for us.
“Hello, Captain Riggs,” Marvin’s voice came a few seconds later. “I’m on my way.”
“Crawling out of the woodwork now that the threat has gone, eh?”
“As would any sensible being in my situation,” he replied. “I don’t have the combat capability of even one of your frigates, so I must remain circumspect.”
“Fine, fine. You’re here now. By the way, where were you hiding?”
“I clad myself in comet ice and drifted into a position of passive observation.”
I had to admit—to myself, not to Marvin—that had been a clever idea.
“We may need your silico-nanite commando drones soon,” I told him. “I’m inclined to follow the Lithos in, but it’s going to be tricky. Do you have any advice based on your observations?”
“The tunnel through the crust took fifty-seven minutes to form. I suggest you make your move quickly once the last Litho enters. They may decide to close it behind them.”
“Fine,” I said. “Fire your drones as soon as the last one enters, and we’ll follow closely.”
“Agreed.”
Over a hundred ships disappeared into the hole as the minutes crawled by like a chain of beads pulled along by an invisible string. Human ships would never leave so little buffer space between them, but I imagined Lithos didn’t worry too much about crashing into one another.
“Marvin, what else can you tell us about the situation?”
“I’m almost certain they’re entering a ring at the center of the artificial planetoid. Based on readings from certain instruments I’ve fashioned, I’m detecting quantum vibrations that are consistent with local variations of collapsed matter.”
I clapped my hands together, startling the bridge crew. “Good news, then! There is a ring inside that rock, and they’re using it to invade another system.”
Adrienne gave me a reproachful look. “Spoiling for another fight?” she asked.
“For a fight? No. I’m hoping for momentum, for progress toward getting home. Sometimes those are the same thing.”
“Are we going to destroy their entire fleet, sir?”
I frowned at her then looked back at the holotank.
“Remember, I tried to talk to them. Besides, they’re machines, just like the Macros, devoid of mercy and feeling. They aren’t biotics like us.”
“You don’t sound completely convinced,” she said.
“Maybe not,” I admitted.
I turned and leaned toward her, speaking quietly. “Right now I’m about to lead this expedition into danger, hoping it gets us closer to home. They have to have confidence in me, and they need to believe they’re doing the right thing. Now’s not the time to undermine me or cause them to doubt themselves. If I’m wrong, it’s on my head.”
Adrienne nodded, her hair touching my cheek as she turned away. Her nearness affected me in an unexpected way. I waited until I was sure she had stepped away then turned back to the crewmen. Some of them had been watching us quietly.
“Pass this on to all ships and crews,” I said. “General quarters! Battle stations! Marine commander, suit up your troops.”
In the holotank, I noticed a flashing yellow contact appear and move quickly toward us. Zooming in, I saw it looked like a comet with an engine flare and designated it as Greyhound for the confused brainbox. Marvin was on course to join us just as the last Litho ship entered the sphere.
Minutes later, Marvin flipped the Greyhound and decelerated, throwing the last of the ice cladding off. As the hull of the ship was revealed, I noticed that in place of its former smooth porpoise shape, suitable for space and atmospheric travel, it had been transformed into a bigger version of Marvin himself. A dozen large tentacles and many smaller ones had been constructed and attached. Some of these new limbs had claws and manipulators at their termination. Others seemed to be holding instrument packages or weapons. All of them were attached to the original fuselage, which now functioned as a central hub. The strange-looking craft’s bullet nose and drifting tubular limbs reminded me strongly of a squid, except the arms ringed the waist instead of the back end.
“That’s the ugliest damn yacht I’ve ever seen, Marvin,” I transmitted on the ship-to-ship channel. “Now, please launch your drones.”
“Your visual descriptors are unhelpful, Ensign Riggs,” Marvin responded.
I wondered if I’d hurt his feelings. If that was even possible.
As the last Litho ship disappeared into the artificial moon, the Marvin-ship launched a dozen drones one after another, which flew quickly down toward the pole below us.
“I suggest we follow as closely as possible in order to utilize e
very moment,” he said. “My silico-nanites will only last so long.
I nodded. “Combat drones first. Send down eight of them, well spaced, and keep them lined up on the tunnel. I want some readings before we fly in there. Hansen, start our descent.”
Five minutes later Marvin’s drones dropped into the tunnel, their exhaust plumes glowing like tiny fireballs. Rather than shooting through after the retreating enemy fleet, they adhered to the walls of the tunnel. According to my sensors, the ploy worked—Marvin’s drones full of silicon nanites had stopped the aperture from closing.
Valiant’s own combat drones entered the hole at high speed a minute later, with the mothership following ten minutes behind. If Marvin’s estimate on how long it would take the Lithos to close up the path was accurate, that gave us a short time window.
I’d already set up the holotank to receive and synthesize the data from the combat drones, so I watched them in what was nearly real-time. With their active radar pinging madly, a high-res picture formed quite quickly once they reached the hollow interior.
The expected ring floated in the center of the artificial globe, but that was not my greatest concern. If the Lithos had left a rearguard in any strength, we might have to turn around. I wasn’t going to let us be ambushed at the bottleneck.
I knew disaster still might await us if the Lithos had planted nukes around the inner edge of the tunnel or floating mines like we used, but our active sensors detected nothing, not even snowflakes. The hollow inside was oddly devoid of any Litho presence. This actually worried me more than having to fight something as it implied I had missed something.
“Okay, I’m not seeing any Lithos. Why might that be?”
“I would think that would be obvious,” Marvin’s voice came over the radio.
“Save the guessing games for downtime, Captain Marvin,” I said.
“My silico-nanites are holding the tunnel open. The Lithos expected it to close; therefore, they believed they had no need of defenses.”