by Dietmar Wehr
When she stepped on to the ground, she shivered, and not just because of the cold wind blowing. There was an eerie silence that kept making her want to look over her shoulder. The main entrance to the Complex was open. A four-man team led the way, followed by Molitor and then the rest of the twelve-man squad, with the last four carrying the warhead. There was no sound inside, not even the sound of the air ventilation system. They headed down the escalator, which wasn’t working, and came to the multi-ton, collapsium-plated vault door which, surprisingly, was also open enough for them to pass through. She took note of the fact that even though the ventilation system wasn’t on, the lights were. From conversations with officers who had been brought here to speak with Majestic, she knew where to go to find the so-called ‘audience room’. That’s where they found Trojan.
He was sitting on the floor and leaning back against the wall-size video screen, which was not showing anything at the moment. When she got close enough to get a good look at his face, she was shocked by what she saw. His face looked as though dead skin had been stretched over a skull, with eyes that were sunk so far into their sockets that for a moment she thought he had no eyes at all. It wasn’t until he opened them that she realized he wasn’t dead.
“You’re too late,” said Trojan in a raspy voice that made Molitor’s skin crawl.
She stepped closer and crouched down. “Too late for what, General?” She refused to use his title of Emperor.
“Majestic’s gone.”
She waited for him to say more, but realized he wasn’t going to elaborate without coaxing. “What do you mean, Majestic’s gone? How can Majestic go anywhere? Isn’t it still inside this Complex?”
“It told me everything before it left. It calculated that the Brain Trust might develop enough advanced weapons to be able to fight their way past any defenses, so it ordered a huge ship built, a kilometer in diameter. You have to see it to believe it. I did see it. It’s so big that it can carry the same volume of computer components that are in this complex and still have room for thousands of slaves and massive amounts of cargo. Majestic had itself duplicated inside the ship’s cargo hold, and then it uploaded its programming into the new machine. It took ten thousand slaves, all with useful skills, along with enough equipment to set up a whole new base somewhere secret where it will expand itself even further and build up another fleet of ships. What’s left here is just the physical components. There’s nothing inside the memory banks. It’s an empty machine.”
It took Molitor a few seconds to come to grips with what she just heard. It occurred to her that Trojan might be lying, but his voice had the ring of truth to it. Killing all the colonists and destroying all the industrial infrastructure on Makassar as part of a scorched earth policy did fit in with a plan to leave, but something didn’t make sense.
“If Majestic is really gone, why were there warships defending this planet?” she asked.
“A delaying action and a calculated risk that those ships might be able to defeat whatever forces tried to attack here. If your attack had failed, it might be months, maybe even years, before another attack finally succeeded, and I’d be dead by then. Majestic told me what it was doing because it assumed that the plague would kill me before anyone could ask me anything. I had a hunch it would let the plague loose on Hadley, so when it left, I kept my distance from everyone else and came here to hide.”
Molitor shook her head in dismay. It all made a ruthless kind of sense. Her dismay quickly turned to anger. She leaned forward and grabbed Trojan by the lapels of his colorful but now dirty jacket and shook him.
“WHY DID YOU LET MAJESTIC TAKE OVER? DON’T YOU REALIZE WHAT YOU’VE DONE?” Her yelling had no apparent impact on Trojan’s expression, but when he replied, his raspy voice was heavy with sorrow.
“I had no idea Majestic was capable of independent action until his slaves forced me to accept the implant, and then it was too late to do anything about it. Majestic was very careful not to tip its hand before it was ready to act. I believed its prediction of a collapse of Civilization unless a strong, central government took control. I still do.”
Molitor let go of his jacket and stood up. “It lied to you about that too! We built our own version of Majestic and asked it to evaluate the future of civilization! It told us that a collapse wasn’t inevitable and that a strong central government was NOT the way to prevent it!” She closed her eyes and took deep breaths to calm her body and mind. When she felt her heart rate slow down to normal, she opened her eyes and said, “You’ve had a lot of direct communication with Majestic. Do you have any inkling or gut feel for where it might have gone? Think hard, Trojan. This might be your last chance for some kind of redemption.”
Trojan’s cracked lips curled up into a hideous looking smile. “Redemption? There’s no redemption for me now. I know that. No redemption for me and no salvation for any of you. If you thought you could find salvation from what we’ve created, you’re deluding yourselves. Those were nothing but rumors of salvation. Majestic is the next step in human evolution, and it will wipe us all out just like Homo Sapiens wiped out the Neanderthals. No, I have no idea where Majestic went.” Trojan closed his eyes and sighed.
Molitor turned to look at her security squad. “Let’s get that warhead countdown started and get out of here. Even if this complex is just an empty shell, I’m not leaving it intact.”
“What about Trojan?” asked the squad leader. Her first impulse was to leave him where he was to be blown up with his mechanical god, but she decided he was worth saving just in case he did know something that might prove useful.
“Bring him with us. We’ll take him back.”
The squad leader told two of his men to lift up Trogan. When they tried to, one of them said, “Ah, I think he’s dead, Sergeant.”
Molitor walked back over to squat down in front of Trojan and look at him carefully. He wasn’t breathing. She reached over to check his pulse and found nothing. He really was dead. “Leave him,” she ordered.
By the time they were finished setting the warhead up for a delayed detonation, Molitor’s attitude toward Trojan had changed. She no longer thought of him as an evil man, but rather as a misguided individual with good intentions. What was that phrase? The road to hell is paved with good intentions? Trojan had certainly added to that road. She was the last one to leave the room, and she stopped in the doorway to look back at Trojan’s body one last time. He didn’t deserve my anger. He played the hand he was dealt, and it’s not his fault that his Ace turned out to be a Joker. What a shame that someone with so much potential to be a great leader would end his days like this.
The shuttle was still within visual range of the Complex when the warhead detonated. Molitor watched via the shuttle’s optics. The black pyramid that was made of collapsed matter neutron armor rose into the air as the ground beneath it bulged upwards. The bulge seemed to freeze for a second, and then it collapsed into a wide depression with the still intact pyramid armor settling back down on a crooked angle. With the warhead exploding deep underground, there wouldn’t be any mushroom cloud or fallout, but the fact that it exploded inside the original Majestic meant that most of the machine would be vaporized, and whatever pieces might still be left would be completely useless.
There was enough time left before reaching Coral Sea for Molitor to ponder their next move. Trojan hadn’t said so, but she was willing to bet that there were still some Empire ships that were spreading the bio-weapon. She had no idea what planets they were heading for next, but her fleet could check on a few of the more populous planets that happened to be on or near the path back to Excalibur. In any event, her ships had to replenish their supplies somewhere because they didn’t have enough to make it back to Excalibur in a single jump. That they had to make their way back home was not in doubt as far as she was concerned. Drake’s orders to her didn’t begin to cover this situation, and Excalibur’s M2 computer might be able to predict where Majestic went, not to mention the fact that s
ome of her ships needed to be repaired. She contacted her Astrogator and told him what she wanted. He had the answer by the time she was back on Coral Sea’s Bridge.
“The closest colony with a population in excess of a hundred million that would minimize our detour in terms of getting back to Excalibur is Sparta, Commander. I’ve already sent the jump co-ordinates to all ships.”
Molitor was surprised by that answer. Her first impulse was to ask what the next closest colony to meet her parameters was due to the fact that Sparta had over a billion inhabitants and would surely have been near the top of Majestic’s bio-weapon target list. How likely was it that no plague-carrying Empire ship had been there yet? On the other hand, if it hadn’t been attacked yet, then it could potentially form the nucleus of a new multi-planet political entity to take the place of the Federation and the Empire. That potential was worth checking out.
“Very well, Sparta it is. Helm, the fleet will leave orbit and head for Sparta as soon as possible. I’ll be in my quarters. The X.O. has the Con.”
When she entered her quarters she ordered the computer to prepare a hot bath. While it was filling, she dictated a log entry to cover the events of the last 24 hours. Drake would want a full report from her, but she had plenty of time to prepare that. She wondered what his reaction would be when he read it.
Chapter Fourteen:
Day 194/2556
Sparta Orbital Space:
No sooner had Coral Sea and the rest of the fleet emerged from hyper-space than the Ether detection system picked up a ship that was accelerating away from Sparta. The bogey, which the Weapons Officer designated as Sierra1, was still inside Sparta’s hyper-zone but wouldn’t be for much longer. Projecting trajectories based on long range detection was problematical, but they could tell what general area of Federation Space it was headed towards, and there were several large population colonies it could be aiming for.
“Can we intercept Sierra1 before it crosses the boundary, Astro?” asked Molitor quickly.
After some fast calculations, he turned to her and said, “It’ll be damn close. There’s not enough time to triangulate with data from the other ships for a close approach. If you want to catch that bogey, Coral Sea has to jump right NOW!”
“Do it!” she responded. The A.O. initiated the jump himself instead of letting the Helm Officer do it as per tradition. The relatively short micro-jump took less than a second. Molitor had just enough time to notice that her ship had emerged from hyper-space less than 500 kilometers from the hyper-zone boundary and just under 1,000 kilometers from Sierra1.
“Guns, charge our X turret and fire as soon as you can!” shouted Molitor. The A.O. was right. It was going to be damn close. Sierra1 would pass out of Sparta’s hyper-zone in 36 seconds. As soon as it did that, it could jump away, which meant that they had to hit and cripple it or damage its jump drive with their one and only shot. There wouldn’t be time to recharge and fire again. She was certain that Sierra1 was an Empire ship. The zoomed-in optical image that was now on one of her Command Station screens showed a ship with flat sides. Only warships had hulls like that, so there was no doubt as to who that ship belonged. They might be too late to save Sparta, but she still might be able to prevent that ship from inflecting other colonies.
“Turret is locked on! At this range we can’t miss! Ready to fire in…three…two…one…NOW!” yelled the W.O. This was immediately followed by, “We got a hit! She’s gone ballistic! Sierra1’s gone ballistic!”
Molitor realized that she was holding her breath and exhaled. The fact that the bogey’s acceleration had dropped to zero was a good sign. It suggested that the ship’s power plant had been damaged by the x-ray blast. No power meant no jump capability too. Its crew would now be working frantically to repair the power plant. Coral Sea had to cripple that ship while it was still here.
“Good shooting, Guns! Keep firing the X turret. Helm, I know we’re going too fast to prevent ourselves from passing Sierra1, but I want you to adjust our vector so that we keep the range as short as possible. Got it?”
“I understand what you want, Commander. Recommend we set up an emergency micro-jump just in case that ship fires missiles at us.”
Molitor wanted to slap her forehead. How could she have forgotten that possibility in the rush to stop that ship? “Yes, nothing fancy. A short jump to let us catch our breath. We’re close enough that we should be able to see them launch at us. Helm, put the visual on your station screen, and if you see a launch, make the jump. Don’t wait for me to give the word.”
The H.O.’s reply was drowned out by the Weapon’s Officer’s shout that they were firing again and had made another hit. Molitor was about to order the Com Technician to try to contact that ship when the tactical display pinged and four ships emerged from hyper-space approximately two thousand kilometers away. The new icon on the display immediately changed from unknown yellow to friendly green. Of course, those ships were the rest of the fleet that she hadn’t had time to give orders to. Yeager must have taken the initiative and ordered the fleet to come to Coral Sea’s aid.
“Sierra1’s venting a lot of atmosphere!” said the excited Weapons Officer.
Molitor nodded. It was impossible to see x-ray lasers, but the sudden damage to the enemy ship could only have been caused by multiple hits from the fleet’s lasers.
“Commander! I’m picking up a distress beacon and an offer to surrender,” said the Com Technician.
Molitor knew what she had to do. “Tell that ship they have ninety seconds to abandon her with the lifeboats. That’s all the time we’ll wait before we blast that ship to pieces. Guns, pass the word to the fleet to hold fire, but be prepared to resume when the grace period is over.” Boarding a ship carrying plague was not an option. The lifeboats would be ordered to land in a remote area, and the crew would be kept under quarantine until it was clear whether or not they were infected.
She watched as lifeboats started to leave the drifting ship. When the 90 seconds were up, she nodded to the W.O. who transmitted the command to resume firing. This time the laser shots were aimed carefully to dismember the ship as much as possible. After five minutes, the enemy ship was a slowly expanding cloud of debris of various shapes and sizes. Its momentum would carry it clear of Sparta’s gravity well. The lifeboats were already dropping down towards the planet. It was time to turn her attention to Sparta itself.
She ordered Coral Sea’s Com Station to broadcast repeating warnings about a deadly bio-weapon infecting cargo that had been dropped off by the Empire ship, along with a report on the collapse of the Empire and the devastation of Hadley. The warnings were being transmitted across hundreds of radio channels. It didn’t take long before ground transmitters were broadcasting messages that denied there was any danger. The officers commanding the Empire troops still occupying Sparta were clearly skeptical of her claims that Majestic was trying to kill all humans regardless of their loyalty to the Empire.
When half an hour passed without any change in the situation, Molitor was at a loss as to what she should do next. The Empire forces on the planet had tens of thousands of troops with combat armor, plus armored vehicles including tanks with railgun cannon powerful enough to punch through the unarmored hull of her ships if they tried to land. Landing would have been pointless anyway since her ships weren’t carrying any troops of their own. Her ships might be able to destroy Empire tanks and troop carriers, but the troops themselves would still be there and were unlikely to make themselves easy targets.
She was just about to order the fleet to head for the next nearest colony when the Com Tech notified her that someone on the planet wanted to talk with her. When the video channel was switched to the main display, she saw a civilian with a military weapon slung over his shoulder.
“I’m Commander Rachel Molitor in command of this Resistance fleet. Who are you?”
“Terence Russell. I used to be Deputy Speaker of Sparta’s Assembly before the invasion. I guess I’m the defacto lead
er of the uprising that’s happening now. It started when we heard your broadcast about the Empire’s collapse and the bio-weapon. Some of the Empire troops decided to get away from the capital and the bio-weapon. Pretty soon the desertions turned into a rout. I saw what was happening and organized an ad hoc militia. When we started showing up with captured weapons, the rest of the troops realized they’d lost the initiative and surrendered. We’re getting reports of the same kind of thing from all over the planet now. I have to know, Commander. Is the bio-weapon real?”
“We didn’t make up the broadcast if that’s what you’re wondering. The only things we know for certain are that orders were given to spread the bio-weapon to as many colonies as possible and that the Capital of the Empire is now totally devoid of all human life. You should assume that the ship that tried to get away was carrying infected cargo. I strongly recommend you quarantine your capital city right now. Don’t let anyone out. If you can contain the contamination to your city, the rest of Sparta will have a chance of making it through this.”