Supernova

by C. Gockel

  It had been hard for 6T9 to accept the death of Infected even with a Q-comm, so he didn’t bother to explain.

  6T9 said, “Buck, I am here with Admiral Noa Sato of the Galactic Fleet.” A lie; she was formerly of the Galactic Fleet, but he guessed the ‘bot wouldn’t have been updated with Galactic news recently enough to matter.

  Sure enough, it nodded knowingly … as though it knew anything.

  “We are going to take you back to the Republic,” 6T9 said.

  “And make me beautiful again?” the ‘bot asked hopefully.

  “Of course,” said 6T9, not knowing if it were true. “But before we go, you need to upload all your memories of the event into me.”

  The ‘bot nodded again, this time earnestly. He did have very easy-to-read emotional expression apps, if 6T9 did say so himself. Buck whispered, “You need my memories of the murder and dissection.”

  “No,” 6T9 said. “The admiral has requested all your memories. From the very beginning.”

  Eyes going blank, the ‘bot said, “Access to all my memories without a warrant violates Republic confidentiality laws.”

  6T9’s teeth ground. The ‘bot wasn’t allowed to share detailed memories of its “working” life. 6T9 could try to extract important information that wouldn’t be out of bounds, but Buck wasn’t smart enough to know what was important. 6T9’s Q-comm flashed. “You weren’t in the Republic.”

  Buck blinked. “That is true. I can give you all memories from the time that I left the Republic.”

  “When was that?” 6T9 asked, not wincing at how easy that had been.

  “One hundred twenty-two years ago,” the ‘bot replied.

  6T9 froze. Nebulas. “What is your serial number?”

  Buck rang off a string of digits, and 6T9 stared. They’d been on the line together.

  The ‘bot’s brow furrowed. “I’ve had some memory wipes during my time outside of the Republic, but none in the past ten years.”

  “That will be more than adequate,” 6T9 replied, recovering from his shock. “Using your ocular light transfer functionality, please relay your records in binary in reverse chronological order.”

  The ‘bot leered, gears ground in its torso, and a bit of Buck’s hip joint sparked as he tried to shimmy. “Hardlinking and reviewing my memories as audio and video data would be much more fun.”

  That would have been 6T9’s answer prior to his Q-comm, maybe even after. “No doubt. But I’m pushed for time.” Also, although he didn’t want to insult Buck, living on a remote outpost, Buck’s memories were probably loaded with viruses of the digital type. Transfer of data in its rawest form, directly to 6T9’s Q-comm and Time Gate 1, would make scanning for and neutralizing viral snippets much easier.

  The other ‘bot echoed his sigh. Its eyes flashed and the upload commenced.

  Thirty minutes later, the ‘bot’s transfer stopped.

  6T9 had what he needed and much more. He’d been away from Volka too long, and he rose hastily.

  “You won’t leave me here, will you?” the ‘bot asked.

  “I have a meeting to go to, but I’ll have the Luddecceans take you to my ship,” 6T9 said, backing up and halfway to the door.

  Grinning, the other ‘bot winked at him, “Sure … a ‘meeting.’” It looked down at its battered body and its face crumpled. “I guess I am in no shape to attend.”

  Behind 6T9, the door to the room was sliding open. “No,” 6T9 said. But not for the reasons Buck could comprehend.

  Commander Ko said, “Shipmen, take the ‘bot to the General’s ship.” Two guardsmen jumped to obey, picking up the ‘bot without bothering to remove him from the chair.

  “General, I’ll take you to the meeting,” Ko said, gesturing for 6T9 to precede him.

  As they entered the hallway, 6T9 asked, “You recorded all of the data?” He knew there had to have been cameras in the room.

  “Yes, I’ve been told that our computer specialists will have no trouble deciphering it.”

  “The ‘bot had three viruses in that code and five worms,” 6T9 said. “If you give me that datapad you’re holding, I can show your computer specialists where in the code they are.”

  They boarded an elevator, and Ko handed him the datapad—it had a convenient camera, and 6T9 transferred the data with the same ocular flashes that the other ‘bot had used. Ko was very quiet, even as they stepped off the elevator and made their way down a long hallway. The data transfer finished, and Ko said, “You didn’t even break stride.”

  “No,” 6T9 replied, and he began reviewing the data he’d collected earlier.

  “It’s … that ‘bot … it’s not anything like you.”

  “Without a Q-comm, I would be very much like it,” 6T9 assured him.

  “Strange to think.” Ko shook his head. “If we had just dressed in Republic uniforms, and used your lines, would it have been as cooperative?”

  “Probably,” 6T9 admitted.

  Ko laughed. “Sorry for wasting your time.”

  6T9 tilted his head. Had it been a waste of time? He’d found a member of his family. He remembered the RussianDoll, Mila, one of the sex ‘bots he’d given a Q-comm to in System 5. Mila had feelings about her line-mates. 6T9 didn’t know what to feel, but the ‘bot was coming home with them. Volka had suggested it first. Thinking of her made him walk faster.

  Ko sighed. “I don’t think that we’ll have the data from the ‘bot translated before this evening.”

  Handing the datapad back, 6T9 said, “But I already have. And it would be best for your captain to know it as soon as possible. It will definitely affect strategy.”

  Ko’s pace increased. “You’re as fast as Angie at these things.”

  Angie? His circuits sparked. Angela Strom, the Chief of Time Gate 5’s security forces? Technically, 6T9 was faster than any augments Angela had, but he was noticing the use of her first name and the present tense. Were Strom and Ko still in contact?

  “This is it,” said Ko, stopping in front of a guarded door that opened to an empty, well-appointed stateroom.

  6T9 heard Kenji’s voice echoing from somewhere out of sight. “You’ll sit at my left side, Volka,” and he knew that she was well. His Q-comm flashed. He was on a Luddeccean vessel and no one had yet suggested he’d be thrown out an airlock. He had the consideration of the first officer, and he’d been invited to this meeting. Volka was sitting next to the highest authority aboard. Undoubtedly Noa and James were fine. They were safer in a technophobic enemy ship than they were in the Republic. Angela Strom and Commander Ko might be friendly.

  A weere priest appeared from a door at the other side of the room. “There you are. The meeting is about to begin.”

  Ko lifted a hand, indicating 6T9 should go before him. Entering, 6T9 strode toward the room beyond. The Republic was falling apart, but the universe might knit back together in more interesting and better ways.

  Volka wheeled the archbishop to the end of the dining room table that had been drafted into duty as a conference table. Noa, James, Young, and Dr. Patrick were seated on the archbishop’s left. Officers from the Uriel were across from them. Slipping in from the other room, Carl claimed Noa’s lap, Isssh hopped onto the archbishop’s, and at the far end of the table, Solomon curled around Alaric’s shoulders. Kneading Noa’s legs, Carl said cryptically, “We have to nap now. We’re very busy. The One are stretched too thin.” He promptly coiled into a ball and was snoring within minutes.

  Sixty still wasn’t back, and Volka felt very alone. The archbishop tapped one of the empty chairs just to his left. “Sit at my left side, Volka.” She dutifully did so and tried not to focus on how disturbed the Uriel’s officers were that she was so close to the archbishop and that Noa was here.

  Her heart and confidence were sinking, and then she heard familiar heavy footsteps—Sixty! She found the spark of his Q-comm in her mind's eye. Seconds later, he entered the room with Ko beside him. His eyes met hers immediately. There was an empty seat beside he
r, and he took it without invitation. She wished she could ask him how his meeting with the other 6T9 unit had gone. It must have been discombobulating. Like meeting a child version of yourself—though Sixty had explained that sex ‘bots without Q-comms really didn’t have the higher reasoning abilities of a child.

  His leg brushed hers under the table, and she was sure it was deliberate, a quiet secret caress, a touch of reassurance, but then his features hardened, and he pulled away. Turning to Alaric, he said, “Captain Darmadi, you were correct. According to the ‘bot’s memories, the Dark did not steal any stores.”

  All immediate feelings of disapproval of Volka and Noa’s presence disappeared as every mind latched onto what really mattered, mulled it, and considered the possibilities.

  Dr. Patrick said, “Did the Infected you encountered appear visibly ill?”

  “He did to me,” Alaric said. “Dr. Aquino, what is your professional opinion?”

  “Definitely,” the doctor responded.

  Dr. Patrick nodded and said, “A former colleague of mine was infected—”

  Pity rippled through the room with physical force, but more than pity, there was impatience from Alaric and also Noa. Beside Volka, 6T9’s heel began to tap.

  “—he looked visibly ill,” Dr. Patrick finished. Dr. Patrick began researching the possible nutrient deficiencies that would have resulted in his colleague’s appearance. Young was thinking about spirulina, and how little he enjoyed it. The Luddecceans were thinking both of the Infected they had just shot and of 6T9’s earlier comment about the spirulina riots … Which brought in the ships’ feelings on that matter …

  Alaric steepled his hands in front of him and said dryly, “I think we can safely assume that the welfare of its host isn’t the Dark’s primary concern.”

  “Given that it is cannibalistic,” 6T9 said equally dryly. “Probably not.”

  “We’re not going to find the shipyards by tracking transport raiders. What is the new plan?” Alaric asked.

  Noa said, “Until recently, the Skimmers were tasked with dropping off drones at all The People’s former colonies. We theorized the shipyard would be at a world that would be conducive to human life and have access to the materials for ship building.”

  “How many of these Dark infested colonies have you discovered and how many have you seeded with drones?” Alaric asked.

  “The Skimmers have reported over 4,000 colony systems,” James said.

  Murmurs of disbelief rose around the table, but Alaric said, “It’s completely believable. Our intel believes that The People were colonizing space for over a million years.” His heart swelled with pride at the thought. “Intel” was Alexis, Volka realized. Alaric’s relationship with his wife had changed. It didn’t make Volka want to growl. It didn’t even make her sad. She wanted to grab Sixty’s hand. She wanted to smile but didn’t. Still, her gaze briefly slid to him. He raised an eyebrow in question, but there was no time, and it wasn’t the place.

  “The Republic seeded perhaps 102 systems with drones,” Noa said, as focused as Alaric was.

  Had it been that many? All of the systems had bled together to Volka after a while.

  Alaric’s brain buzzed with frustration. “There must be a way to narrow it down.”

  6T9’s heel began to tap again, and then he said, “It is still abducting people. If it is following the method it took at Donner, it seeds the infection perhaps two weeks before pickup. In the recovered 'bot’s memories, its owners gave it more stringent hygiene protocols because of a flu going around starting about thirteen days ago. In its memories, there is no record of any resistance to the Dark in Donner—however, it may not have noticed.” His gaze dropped. “Sex ‘bots don’t notice if their own kind wind up dismembered in ditches, trust me. They also miss the hoverbus when newspapers report massive human disappearances.”

  That was a memory of his own life on Luddeccea, pre-Revelation, Volka was sure.

  Shaking himself, Sixty said, “We got too late to Donner, but perhaps if we programmed sex ‘bots to report the signs of infection, we’d get to the next outbreak in time.”

  “Some unincorporated outposts are a year at lightspeed from the nearest time gate,” Noa observed. “We can’t spare the Skimmers.”

  Sixty said, “We can focus on the ones closest to the Republic. Those are the ones conventional ships will be visiting in the near future and the most dangerous to us.”

  Noa sighed. “The Republic might not support those efforts.”

  Sixty leaned toward her. “The unincorporated outposts will support it. They don’t want the Dark killing their business.”

  Commander Ko blurted, “The Republic won’t support it?”

  The archbishop took off his glasses. “The Skimmers were disbanded by the Republic. After their attempted assassinations, Sixty, Admirals Sato and Wolf teamed up with System 11, which is in the process of breaking away from the Republic.” He blinked up at Alaric. “You did notice all the weere in the Skimmers’ crews?”

  Alaric’s expression almost remained neutral. There was just the barest flattening of his lips. Internally he seethed with so much fury Volka’s heart started to race, and her body flushed.

  Commander Ko thought, “I hate Angie being in the Republic. They’re all mad. Got their heads in the treehole like a borick in a fright.” Memories of her naked shoulder, the gleam of her neural port as he half-dozed, curled up behind her filled the commander’s mind. The sweetness of it distracted Volka, and it was a welcome escape from Alaric’s rage.

  Noa said, “In some ways, we’re in a better position than we were before,” snapping Volka back to the topic at hand and making her eyes widen in surprise.

  From Alaric came a wave of irritated skepticism. Sixty’s gaze was equally dubious.

  Dipping her chin, Noa didn’t flinch. “We have full control over the Skimmers. And we are better equipped militarily despite our lack of access to cutting-edge technology.”

  The exploding wave in Donner’s Settlement filled Alaric’s mind. In his imagination, it reached its hungry hand for Alexis, their children, and Volka, too.

  That wave was important. That was what their meeting was about. Volka sat up straighter. “Do you have holo visuals of the whole confrontation at Donner? Everyone here should be witness to what you saw.”

  One of the weere priests cleared his throat.

  Alaric had doubts. It might waste time. It also hadn’t been cleared for view by the Galacticans. Still, he almost acquiesced.

  Just before Alaric offered, the archbishop spoke. “Thank you, Volka, an excellent idea. It hasn’t been reviewed by our Council yet, but I’ll take the blame if they deem its sharing inappropriate.”

  The weere priests shifted nervously, but one tapped a button on a digital tablet; the center of the table slid away to reveal a semi-holosphere. The room darkened, and light sprang from the holo. They watched the Luddecceans’ foray to Donner until the end. When the water exploded from behind the wall, every human at the table saw the same grasping, claw-like hand that Alaric thought he might only have imagined.

  Volka glanced at Sixty. His eyes were focused on the holo. His leg was still.

  “How does it do that?” Dr. Patrick asked.

  Carl poked his nose over the table edge. His speech-to-ethernet device crackled. “Telekinesis, of course.”

  Sixty inclined his head to the werfle. “In New Grande, it took hundreds of cats to open a single fire door.”

  “The lock was heavy and so was the door,” Carl said. “Energy equals mass times the speed of light squared. You know the formula.”

  Lieutenant Young leaned forward. “The more members of The One, the more power?”

  Carl smoothed his whiskers. “Not precisely. The host’s mass determines it. Shissh, currently in her tiger form, has much more energy potential than me.” He sniffed. “She also eats a lot. Not convenient at all.”

  Alaric tapped his finger on the table. “So, thirty werfles inhabited b
y The One would have 7.8 septillion Joules of energy?”

  Volka blinked as understanding from the cyborg Galacticans flowed into her mind. The Luddecceans didn’t comprehend the comparison as clearly. The numbers were too large, so she tried to put it into words they’d understand. “That’s more than ten times the power of a conventional nuclear warhead.” And approximately the energy potential of a human being—or thirty werfles.

  Carl scratched his ear. “We can’t utilize all our mass for energy, of course; there would be nothing left of us. We can only utilize a fraction of our potential. The Dark has a lot more potential.”

  A thought entered the minds of Alaric, Noa, Ko, the archbishop, and Lieutenant Young at the same time. But it was Sixty who said it aloud. “It will be somewhere it will have the most potential energy.”

  “A water world,” said one of the priests.

  Young shifted in his seat. “With a large surface area.”

  “One that is temperate,” Alaric added. “Small ice caps or none at all.”

  Volka felt a zing in the waves, and then the medical doctor blurted, “It is likely to be somewhat inhospitable to humans. A large planet, likely with punishing gravity, but also likely breathable air and survivable pressure, completely covered by seas.”

  “But still likely to have remnants of The People’s technology,” Noa said.

  Sixty turned to Volka. “Can the Skimmers narrow down the likely worlds?”

  Volka’s brow furrowed. “I think so … but Dr. Elam will need to translate punishing gravity, breathable air, and survivable pressures for me … I have no context.”

  The archbishop put one of his hands on top of hers. “Contact them. We’ll wait.”

  Alarm rose from the Luddecceans and worry from Alaric. Sixty’s thigh was brushing hers, and she felt his muscles stiffen, but Young grinned. “The ships make telepathy easy. There is no worry of jammers, either.”

  That interested all the Luddecceans the way rats and deer excited Volka. Volka tried to tune it out and reached out to Dr. Elam. When she’d first met him, he’d shaken her hand, not too hard—like he forgot she wasn’t a cyborg—or too softly, like he thought she was made of glass. He had a nice mind to touch … and always thought it was his Skimmer’s fault when she accidently did so. “What do you need, Volka?” he asked, appearing in her mind’s eye in his armor, aboard his ship. When she explained, he instantly grasped the problem and knew the limits of human endurance, and, more importantly, how to translate that for the ships. His knowledge flowed to the Skimmers, and images of worlds began flashing through her consciousness. Volka was sure her eyes would have crossed in the real world if they’d been open. She couldn’t remember them all—but she didn’t have to. She called on Young and Dr. Patrick, and they immediately turned on apps that let them memorize everything. She pulled in the other captains too, more minds, more ideas. TAB cried happily through Jerome’s consciousness. “This is so exciting!”