Warstrider 05 - Netlink

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by William H. Keith


  “Just so you realize that the whole species isn’t one nice, neat, small package. Some of it’s got warts. Some of it doesn’t have access to high-tech toys.”

  “Some don’t want that access. We’ll work with what we have to work with.”

  “And the idea is still to try to reason with the Web?”

  “If we possibly can,” Katya said. “We don’t even know if communication, real communication is possible. If it is, the xenologists on the Gauss and other research vessels should be able to learn how to do it. We’re going in armed with everything Dev picked up, everything we’ve learned since. We have Naga fragments that may be able to reveal some of the past, give us common ground for a dialogue.”

  “But if they can’t talk,” Dev said, “yes, we’ll have to fight.” Kara gave a wry grin. “From what you guys’ve told me, that’s not going to be easy. Odds of millions to one? And against an opponent who may just be as far ahead of us as we are ahead of mice?”

  “It won’t be that bad, Kara,” Dev said. “We’ll be going back better prepared this time.”

  “We’ve been studying the records Dev brought back,” Katya added. “We’ve found what may be some weaknesses in the Web’s position. And ways that we can exploit those weaknesses.”

  “I’d like to see what you have.”

  “Certainly.”

  “Are you with us, then?” Dev asked.

  “Of course I’ll be coming along,” Kara said. “If my people are going, you don’t think anything could keep me away from this dustup, do you?”

  Dev looked at Katya, smiled, and gave a small shrug. “She is your daughter, Katya.”

  Katya smiled at him. “I’ve known that for a long time.”

  Chapter 21

  The universe is not only queerer than we imagine. It is queerer than we can imagine.

  —J. B. S. HALDANE

  mid–twentieth century C.E.

  “Just what is it we’re hoping to accomplish out there, any­way?” Kara asked.

  She stood in front of the viewall, looking out at the vast assembly of starships gathered in New American orbit. Both her mother and father were there, Vic resplendent in his Con­federation general’s full-dress grays, Katya in a simple cov­erall with a tasteful holographic animation of kaleidoscope shapes and colors running down the border of the torso seal. A number of others were there as well; space was in short supply aboard the Gauss, and most compartments were both too small and too crowded.

  Embarkation parties were something of a tradition, however, at least aboard civilian vessels, and the science ship’s lounges had been adapted as party centers for the passengers, who gathered to watch the panorama of the Aquilan Expeditionary Fleet against the gold, green, and blue of New America, to eat the hors d’oeuvres provided by the ship’s nanoprocessors, and to make nervous jokes about the coming jump into the un­known.

  “You know as much about that as the rest of us, Kara,” Vic replied. He took a sip from his drink. “You were in on every staff meeting from the time you got back from Kasei on.

  Kara looked back over her shoulder at him. “I’m not talking about specific strategy. I just wonder if it’s at all clear what we’re getting into.”

  “Peaceful communication if we can pull it off,” Katya said. “With a civilization far older than our own. And if not, well, probably the best we can hope for is to let the Web know we won’t simply wait to be absorbed or integrated or whatever they think they can do to us.”

  “We’ve got a chance,” Vic added. “A good one.”

  Accommodations were not nearly so luxurious as those aboard the Teikoku, of course. Gauss was smaller by far, and space was at a premium, with some eight hundred passengers aboard a vessel designed to handle half that many. It was made even more cramped by the need for extra stores of raw ma­terial—carbon, hydrogen, nitrogen, and oxygen, especially—for the nanoprocessors that would be providing them with food, water, and air.

  Heat management was arguably the biggest problem on older vessels like the Gauss; everyone aboard agreed that it was a good thing they would be piggybacking it to their des­tination with a DalRiss cityship this time instead of taking the usual long, hot route through K-T space. A joke making the rounds of both the science teams and the warstrider squadrons held that the death of an Achiever was a small price to pay to avoid the indignity of being cooked in their own juices by the time they reached their destination.

  “This might not be the time to go into it,” Kara said qui­etly. “But I’ve got a bad feeling about this one. A lot worse than I had before Sandstorm.”

  “Is the Academy endowing our warriors with psychic pow­ers now?” Katya asked.

  “Let her say it, Kat,” Vic said. “You know as well as I do about soldiers’ hunches.”

  “This isn’t like that,” Kara said. “I don’t have any grand premonition of death, or whatever.” She shook her head. “It’s just—well, this is a strange thing for a soldier to say, I know, but I wonder if we’re not going about this all wrong. Sun Tzu says to match your strength against your opponent’s weakness, not against his strength.” She waved an arm, taking in the massed fleet visible against the New American disk. “It looks as though the Web’s strength more than anything else is sheer weight of numbers. That’s what Dev seemed to be saying, anyway, that they won by sending millions and millions of machines against the DalRiss and overwhelming their defenses. And here we are trying to match them strength for strength.” She raised an eyebrow as she looked at her father. “Seems like a bad strategy, Gen­eral.”

  Vic chuckled. “You could be right. We wrangled about that with the Imperial Ops staff for weeks.”

  “Who was arguing what?”

  “The Imperials were all for sending in the big guns. The ryu carriers and a flock of heavy cruisers. Admiral Munimori even suggested that the Imperials could handle the whole show by themselves, without our help. The rest of us—especially Dev—wanted a more subtle approach. Something less de­pendent on matching the Web, as you put it, strength against strength.”

  “The Confederation doesn’t have that powerful a warfleet, Kara,” Katya added. “We can’t afford to stretch ourselves too thin, or take risks too large.”

  “Like we weren’t taking risks with Operation Sandstorm?”

  Katya grimaced. “That was a case of doing what we had to do in order to survive as an independent government.…”

  “Agreed, Mums. I wasn’t really arguing the point. And I can understand that our survival as a species is at stake here. But if we can’t hope to beat them by matching their numbers, what approach can we use?”

  “Technology,” Vic said simply.

  “Technology. Against a technic civilization billions of years old. A civilization capable of energy-to-matter conver­sion, able to travel across half of the goking Galaxy, and pos­sibly even able to pull off a little time travel now and again.” Kara raised a skeptical eyebrow. “This makes sense?”

  “In fact,” Katya said, “we do have one big tech advantage. The I2C.”

  Kara had heard that idea bandied about during various of the planning sessions but had never quite trusted it. “It’s hard to believe. Is there really no evidence that they have faster-than-light communication?”

  “None,” Vic said. “Everything in the images Dev brought back shows they use really a rather mundane technology for all of their interior communications. Radio, maser, and laser, mostly. There may be some other channels Dev didn’t catch, because of the limitations of DalRiss biotech, but it looks like that’s all they have.”

  “And I have a theory about that,” a new voice said at Kara’s back.

  She turned. “Well, hello, Daren. I was wondering where you were,”

  “Taki and I were checking out the ViRcomm modules on Deck Three.” He grimaced. “Do you realize we’re going to have to use them in shifts?”

  “That’s how it is on a crowded ship,” Kara told him. “Most warships don’t have more than on
e module per one hundred crew and soldiers aboard. So they share, and every­body gets an hour every two or three days.”

  “Barbaric!”

  “Just be happy we’re going to get where we’re going in a matter of days,” Katya said with a smile. “If we were doing this the old-fashioned way, we’d crawl to our destination in K-T space. At a light year per day, we’d be locked up inside this metal can for over three years, and the only way to escape the heat is your hour-in-fifty in a ViRsimulation!”

  “Still, the scientists are going to need comm modules to continue their work. Taki and I need all the time we can get practicing with Charlie.”

  “Charlie” was actually a class of teleoperated flyers, KS-1090 Cutlasses with the weapons and life-support modules re­moved, the hull collapsed and folded to a more compact configuration, and the AI downgraded to receive teleopera­tional input. The device could be operated like a remote probe or hubot, in situations that might pose a risk to human re­searchers.

  “So how’s flight training coming along for you two?” Kara asked.

  “Oh, well enough. It’s a lot harder than teleopping a hubot on the ground.” He cocked a quizzical look at Kara. “What I want to know is why you military types don’t teleop your warstriders. Wouldn’t it be safer sitting aboard a ship in orbit and jacking the things around by remote?”

  “Sure would.”

  “Why don’t you do it, then?”

  Katya laughed. “Because the other guy’s trying to find ways to operate your machinery, too, and with AIs as good and as fast as they are at analyzing coded frequencies, he could do it.”

  “Imagine,” Vic added, “that you’re a general with a whole army of teleoperated striders moving in on the enemy. Sud­denly his AI breaks your control codes, turns your army around, and sends it back at you, lasers and PACs blazing. Embarrassing. Doesn’t look at all good on your fitness re­port.”

  “There’s also jamming and local interference to worry about,” Kara said. “Sometimes, in a big battle, the actual pilot-against-pilot combat is the smallest part of the action. Both sides are throwing up fields of interference and jamming, trying to disable remote sensors and probes, trying to access AI and communications channels. Believe me, if it were pos­sible to teleoperate a warstrider on the battlefield, we would!”

  Daren shook his head, eyes narrowed, trying to understand. “Even with tight-beamed feeds? I mean, with lasers or focused microwave input—”

  “Do you have any idea what smoke and dust in a surface battle does to a comm laser’s range?”

  “Oh. Well, I’ll take your expert word for it. You know, I’ve often wished I could teleoperate a hubot on Dante from New America.” He glanced at Katya. “With the polito pro­hibitions against traveling in the Shichiju, that sometimes seemed like the only way to get any useful work done.”

  Katya looked startled. “My God—”

  Daren held up his hand. “I know, I know. I’m sorry, Mother. I just meant—”

  “No, it’s not you,” Katya said. “I was just thinking. If we could jack through an I2C link—”

  Kara saw at once what her mother was getting at, and the idea was stunning. Quantum communications effects worked across interstellar distances precisely because there was no sig­nal—at least none through normal space—between one set of electrons and the matched set elsewhere.

  That meant there was absolutely no way an enemy could jam, intercept, or override a communications beam. A war-strider pilot could sit in comfort and safety on a world light years away, her mind jacked into her machine, her senses there in the battle.

  No more casualties. Machines could be smashed into scrap, but their pilots would awaken inside their command centers, with nothing bruised save their egos. She’d been thinking of the I2C in such a limited way—simply as a means of coor­dinating warships over interstellar distances. There were so many other possibilities, though.…

  Kara looked at her mother. “Kuso, Mums. Were the Im­perials working on that?”

  “I don’t know. All they admitted to was connecting their larger ships, their colonies, and their embassies.”

  “The Imperial leadership has a pretty traditional mind set,” Vic pointed out. “Teleoperated warstriders might not have oc­curred to them yet.”

  “But it would have,” Kara said. “Sooner or later, it would have. God, this is going to utterly rewrite everything we know about war!”

  Katya nodded, looking glum. “War could become some kind of game. No muss. No dirt. No pain or blood… except in the city you just leveled on some world light years away!”

  Daren laughed. “Well, maybe that would be a good thing. End war once and for all.”

  “How do you figure that?” Kara asked him.

  “If war becomes too horrible, or too destructive, maybe we’ll finally give it up. It could turn into a balance of terror, like during the early years of the nuclear age. I don’t bomb you because I can’t stop you from bombing me.”

  “The evidence of history,” Katya pointed out, “is that weapons are always used sooner or later. The rules of war and the way it’s waged may change, but the fact of it never does.”

  “Well, I2C will certainly be a boon for scientists. No more begging for appropriations. No more expensive expe­ditions. Just equip a small, unmanned starship with a good AI and a few teleoperated probes, and you could send it anywhere in the Galaxy and never even leave your own home.”

  Vic grimaced. “Takes all the fun out of it, though. What’s going to happen to the human race? We all lose our arms and legs and become machine-tended brains, stored away in the basement?”

  “Wouldn’t matter,” Daren said. “Our minds would be free. Assuming we could get time on the comm module to practice with our remotes! Seems like a nullheaded way to do things, not having enough mods to go around.”

  “Don’t worry, Dar,” Kara said, patting his shoulder. “I’m sure you and your little friend will survive.”

  Daren gave her a hard look, as though wondering just what was behind the amused irony of her voice, then shrugged. “We’ll do what we have to do,” he said. “But I’d have felt a hell of a lot better if this expedition hadn’t been literally thrown together at the last moment. We’re going into this un­prepared. We could miss some fantastic opportunities here.”

  Katya brought her hands to her temples, shaking her head slowly. “Daren, for years now you’ve been downloading on me every day about the need to get out in the field, to expe­rience things for yourself, to meet an alien civilization in the flesh… or in this case, I guess, the metal. Well, take a look around! You’ve got it! Everything you wanted! Why aren’t you happy?”

  “Kuso, Mother. I—”

  Katya reached out and grabbed his shoulder. “I’m jo-king,” she said, pronouncing each syllable separately and distinctly. “Sometimes, Daren, you take things a little too seriously.”

  He sighed. “I suppose you’re right. Still, I wonder if we’re going about this whole thing right… and that’s nothing to joke about.”

  “No,” Vic said thoughtfully. “It’s not. I’m thinking how wonderful it would be if we had the luxury of sending this fleet out to Nova Aquila without any humans along.”

  Kara could hear the pain in his voice. If they couldn’t talk to the Web, there were going to be casualties in the battle that would follow. No military officer enjoys the prospect of losing the people under his command. Kara knew that much from bitter experience.

  “I don’t suppose there’s time to reequip all of the ships with I2C remotes?” Daren asked.

  “Not a chance. The redesign of the ship interfaces alone could take years. And I don’t think the Web is going to give us that much time.”

  “Well,” Daren said. “I’m not sure we’ll be able to under­stand the Web, or even begin trying to talk to it, simply by throwing large numbers of scientists at it.”

  “Depends on how hungry it is,” Kara said. “Especially for xenologists.”

>   “Amusing, Kara. Twisted, but amusing.”

  “So what’s the big theory?” Kara asked him.

  “About what?”

  “About Web comm technology. You said you have a theory about it.”

  “Ah! Yes. Some of us at the University have been working on the idea that the Web doesn’t know about quantum physics. In fact, it probably can’t.”

  “I’ve heard that but don’t understand it.” Vic took a sip of his drink. “These people build goking great rings around black holes. Doesn’t that mean they’re harnessing Hawking radia­tion?”

  “It’s possible,” Daren said with a smug grin, “that they are doing exactly that but have no idea what it is they’re do­ing.”

  Much of the basis for twenty-sixth-century technology lay in the twentieth-century formulation of the bizarre mathemat­ics of quantum mechanics. The Quantum Power Tap, for ex­ample, used finely tuned pairs of oscillating singularities to provide literally unlimited streams of clean, raw energy. De­pending on the set of equations used, there were two ways of interpreting where that energy came from. One way of de­scribing the source was to say the energy was flowing from the K-T plenum, the underlying hyperdimension of pure en­ergy on which the entire universe rode like a bubble on an ocean of froth. A second description, however, held that vir­tual particle pairs—particle and antiparticle—were constantly being formed out of empty vacuum and almost instantly mu­tually annihilated. Hawking radiation, named for the brilliant twentieth-century physicist who predicted it, occurred when one of the virtual particles was trapped inside the event hori­zon of a black hole while the other escaped into the universe—energy apparently leaking from the black hole. Early speculations had suggested that energy-hungry civilizations in the far-future might derive the energy they needed from Hawk­ing radiation captured at the event horizon.

  Bizarre as such concepts were, they all were solidly based on the even more bizarre twistings of quantum physics, a mag­ical, Alice-in-Wonderland world where Schrodinger’s prover­bial cat could be both alive and dead, until an observer called one possibility or the other into existence.

 

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