by James Palmer
“Where?” said Kuttner.
“Right on top of us. They’re attacking the Heinlein.”
“Alice,” said Kuttner. “Get the hell out of here.”
“No can do, Captain,” she said. “They haven’t noticed you yet. Go find Straker.”
“But you don’t stand a chance—”
“That’s an order, Captain,” she said. “Sheldon out.”
“All power to the engines,” said Kuttner. “Gunner Cade, cover our exit from the asteroid field. Shoot any of those things that get too close. Hudson, plot a course of the main body of the Fleet.”
They sped away, the gleaming length of the Heinlein directly above them. Already they could see holes appear in the ship’s hull as the Swarm probes did their deadly work. Kuttner saluted as they moved away.
“Damn it,” he swore. “I wanted to strangle her when she was a part of this. But now…” his voice trailed off.
“I know, sir,” said Hamilton. “It isn’t always easy to know who the enemy is.” He glanced at Drizda as he said it.
“I’m just tired,” said Kuttner. “Damned tired. I miss the good old days when we knew who to shoot at.”
“Sir,” said Hamilton carefully. “Were you going to surrender back there?”
Kuttner looked at him, his face betraying nothing. “Let’s go get this finished.”
33 Makers
Leda was forced to her knees next to the Swarm probe. She could hear the faint hum it emitted, could feel the warmth coming from its interior workings. The panel where the power coupling was connected glowed with its own inner light.
“Touch it,” said Straker. “It’s alive.”
The Marine unfastened one of her manacles, the heavy fetters hanging from her left wrist as she touched the Swarm probe. For a long moment nothing happened. Then she felt an electric jolt and was suddenly somewhere else.
Spinning, endlessly spinning. How long had they been moving through the void? How long had they toiled? It didn’t matter. Only the Errand mattered. That, and the Warning, issued to all who were advanced enough to hear it. The Ix were coming, even now.
Leda squeezed her eyes shut, reeling from the thoughts and sensations that bombarded her. She was beginning to understand what was happening. The probe was communicating with her somehow. She quieted her mind and let it back in.
It was cold and dark. The only light came from tiny pinpricks, stars burning faintly in the distance. She felt weightless, turning slowly over and over, but she wasn’t dizzy. Her eyes were not her eyes. She saw everything in shades of pulsing greens and blues, vivid reds, and fuzzy vibrations. This was not the visible spectrum she usually saw with her human eyes. No, this was how the probe saw. The usual mosaic of stars, planets, interstellar gas and dust came to her on a canvas of infrared, X-rays, Gamma rays, and even radio. For what good were human eyes in the dark between the stars?
Particles assailed her, passed through her. She rolled again, and the scene shifted. Below her, below the ecliptic plane, she saw a blue-green world pulsing with vibrant life. Not Earth, no, the landmasses were different shapes, and most of them seemed to be covered by the dull gray of cities that pulsed brightly in infrared.
Home, the probe sent, more of a distinct feeling than a word, and Leda’s own heart ached for her distant world of Proxima.
Leda also had a sense of deep time passing, and that this beautiful green marble was long gone, maybe even long dead. The probe was sifting through its memories to show her this place; it must be important. She knew she must watch. And listen.
The planet loomed closer. Down through its atmosphere they went, tasting oxygen and nitrogen with just a faint tang of ammonia as she descended. She felt gravity pulling on her now, forcing her down, down, down.
Now the visible light spectrum kicked in, and she saw an ancient panorama of deep browns and brilliant golds. Gleaming cities bristling with towers, every inch covered in photovoltaic cells. All around them were more machines. Machines that flew, machines that crawled, machines that run up the sides of buildings on numerous gecko feet, seeing to some errand Leda could scarcely imagine. And amid these, were groups of tall, bulbous brown beings, like lumps of clay. Enormous black eyes centered in doughy faces. Their hands multi-fingered and precise as they worked complex mechanisms. They sang to each other, their voices filling the ammonia-tinged air like whale song.
Progenitors? Leda thought.
No, sent the probe. Makers.
Leda understood as the scene shifted. These beings made things, masses of them. They seemed to love to tinker, to experiment. They made machines that seemed to have no other purpose but to make other, tinier machines. They made machines as big as capital ships and as small as single atoms. They made biological machines. They created new life.
Leda had many more questions, but she felt herself being yanked away, as if on a string. She was floating up, up, back through the atmosphere of this distant planet, until she could see it in its entirety once more. Then something happened. The cities went dim, then dark, then crumbled, the rivers and oceans dried up, and it was as if a shadow had passed over this beautiful world, a planetary or solar eclipse. When it passed, even the atmosphere was gone, leaving a dead, barren husk.
When? Leda thought.
In her mind’s eye she saw stars die and planets leave their orbits. She saw distant suns trading places, and she knew this event had happened a very long time ago. She felt like an infant in a hurricane.
The Chaos Wave.
Yes, sent the probe.
It’s coming back.
Yes.
Leda was filled with despair. How could they hope to stop something like that? It felt too large to wrap her mind around.
Hope, sent the probe.
She saw more stars now, a wheeling configuration of seven stars, one of which pulsed brightly, that she somehow felt was significant. She latched her awareness onto it and wouldn’t let go. She had to remember it. She had to.
The constellation fell away into the distance, becoming nothing more than pinpricks in velvet as the Swarm pulled away.
Wait.
They kept moving away, faster and faster. Entire solar systems flew past, nebulae, interstellar dust clouds.
Wait!
She slowed. She thought, what does it mean?
Hope, the probe sent again.
In that place you showed me, she thought.
Yes.
What will we find there?
Light of Ages
Leda felt wonder fill her being.
So the ancient Progenitor legend was true?
Yes, the probe sent again.
Are the Makers and the Progenitors the same?
No, the probe sent. Progenitors are the children of the Makers.
Another electric jolt and—
Leda was back inside herself, holding her hand where the skin of the probe had shocked her. A few things made more sense now, but there were still more questions. What is the Light of Ages? Could it help combat the Chaos Wave? And what is the Chaos Wave?
Leda rubbed her hand on the leg of her uniform. It was freezing cold, even though the command deck was a comfortable temperature. She shivered.
“Now you see the glorious reckoning that awaits mankind,” said Straker.
“Yes,” she said. I see what’s coming.” And she knew what she had to do.
34 Goodbye
The Onslaught limped out of the asteroid field, escorted by the Heinlein. “I’m not sure how much more help I can be,” Admiral Sheldon tightbeamed.
“You’ve done great, Alice,” said Kuttner. “Thanks. I’ll transmit to you everything we’ve been through with the Swarm up to now. They’ll listen to an Admiral.”
“Not when they realize what I’ve done,” she said sadly. “I’m really sorry, Hank.”
“Just make it right, Alice,” said Kuttner. “You and me are already square again.”
After sending the data, Kuttner ordered Brackett to send it a
gain to the entire fleet over the common circuit. “No way Straker blocks us now,” he said.
“Sir,” said Cade. “We’ve got multiple incomings. They match the energy signature of the Swarm.”
Kuttner sighed. “Guess who’s coming to dinner.”
“All these ships are like an endless buffet,” said Hamilton.
“Hopefully they’ll be too divided to do a lot of damage to one target,” said Kuttner. “That should buy us some time.”
“They’re all headed this way,” said Hudson. “They’re converging on the Heinlein.”
Drizda said, “They’re being controlled. Someone is communicating with them. I’m detecting a tightbeam signal being broadcast to them. I can’t put them back to sleep. They’re not listening to the frequency I’m sending.”
“Straker,” said Kuttner. “Admiral Sheldon,” he said over tightbeam. “The Swarm are headed right for you. Straker sent them. We can’t stop them this time.”
“We’ll give them one hell of a fight,” she said. “I want you to get out of here.”
“We’ll stay and help.”
“That’s an order, Captain. Get your ship the hell out of here.”
Kuttner took a deep breath. “Alice, let me—”
“Nonsense, Captain. The real enemy here is Straker. He’s the one pushing the Swarm’s buttons now.”
“Roger that,” said Kuttner. “It’s been an honor, Admiral.”
“I’m not dead yet, Captain. Belay the sentiment and get going!”
The channel closed. Kuttner watched helplessly as the Swarm probes converged on the Heinlein, almost completely covering its gleaming hull as they tore into it. He was tired of watching as these things devoured everything in their path, but at least now he knew what to do about it. “Hudson, think you can find the Armitage in all this chaos?”
“I never lost sight of her, Captain,” said the navigator.
“Good. Plot a course to intercept and get going, maximum speed.”
Straker has his hands on the ultimate weapon,” said Hamilton.
Kuttner nodded. “Let’s go pry it away from him, shall we?”
At then thousand kilometers out they saw it, skirting the edge of the Artra system, where the battle between the human and Draconi fleets was still going strong.
“Gunner Cade,” said Kuttner. “Be ready to fire on the Armitage as soon as we’re in range.”
“The Armitage is a formidable vessel,” advised Hamilton. “Heavy armor, powerful weapons.”
“I know what we’re up against, Commander,” muttered Kuttner. “But I’m sick and tired of being pushed around, aren’t you?”
Hamilton looked grimly at the view screen. He knew full well what the Colonel’s flagship was capable of. “Brackett, erase our transponder ID and push out as much tachyon static as you can. Maybe that will buy us some time.”
“Smart thinking,” said Kuttner. “Helm, increase speed.”
“I don’t think they’ve noticed us yet,” said Hudson. “They’re maintaining course.”
“Their weapons are offline,” added Cade.
“Cocky bastard, isn’t he?” said Kuttner.
“You don’t know the half of it, sir,” said Hamilton. “But at this point we could use every advantage we can find.”
Kuttner said, “Increase speed.”
“We’re in weapons range,” said Cade.
“Then fire!”
The ship’s ion cannons blasted the Armitage with a deadly stream of charged particles, which struck the vessel amidships.
“They’re coming about,” said Hudson.
“Keep firing,” said Kuttner. “Don’t give them a chance to breathe.”
“Sir,” said Hamilton. “Lt. Niles is aboard that ship.”
Kuttner looked at his second in command. “I know, son. And I’m sorry. But we’ve got to shut Straker down to stop the Swarm.”
Hamilton nodded. “I know. It’s just—.”
Kuttner placed a hand on his left shoulder. “It’s not just good guys and bad guys. Things start exploding, everyone gets hurt.”
Hamilton looked down at the floor.
“She’s sustained heavy damage,” said Hudson, but she’s coming about.”
“Our deflectors are gone, Captain,” said Cade.
“I know, Gunner. Just keep firing.”
Gunner Cade held down the firing controls, sending a continuous particle stream into the Armitage, overwhelming its deflectors and striking one of the capacitors that powered them, obliterating it. He kept up the barrage, carving a dark jagged line across the gleaming hull of the larger, more powerful ship.
“They’re firing back,” said Cade, gripping the edges of his weapons console.
“All hands, brace for impact,” Kuttner warned.
The whole ship shook as a volley of depleted uranium shells struck home, smashing through the already fragile Onslaught’s hull like tinfoil. Warning klaxons went off, and Kuttner ordered them silenced. A panel shorted out somewhere behind them, filling the air with the tang of ozone and burnt wiring.
Cade re-aimed his ion cannons and fired, searing the Armitage as it fully came around to face them. “The guns won’t hold out much longer.”
“Give them everything we’ve got,” said Kuttner.
With the rail gun down permanently, the ion cannons were the only weapons they had at their disposal. Cade made good use of them, activating an automatic firing sequence he’d developed to cause the guns to move independently of the targeting system, allowing them to fire on different areas of the Armitage, exploiting weak points until one of the guns overheated and powered down. A well-placed shell from the Armitage destroyed the other one, causing the ship to shudder and jerk once more as it was struck. From all over the ship they could hear muffled explosions, the smell of distant smoke filling the air.
The Armitage was worse for wear too, portions of its hull melted and warped, huge holes in its skin open to vacuum. But it had something the Onslaught didn’t have—ammo. It hurled volley after volley of depleted uranium shells at them, many of them missing by a wide margin, others striking crucial areas of the ship.
“I think we got their targeting system,” said Cade. They’re shooting blind.”
“They’re still shooting, Lieutenant,” said Hamilton morosely.
“We’ve still got one thing left,” said Kuttner.
“What is that?” asked Hamilton.
“The Onslaught itself.”
“Sir?”
Kuttner stood and pointed at the Armitage in the viewer. “Mr. Hudson, ramming speed.”
Hudson turned and glared at him. “What?”
“You heard me,” said Kuttner. “The Swarm is being controlled from that ship. We’ve got to stop Straker at any cost.”
“Yes sir,” said Hudson and made the course adjustments. The ship lurched as it picked up speed, its tired engines coerced into one last push of speed and energy.
“But what about Led—Lt. Niles?” said Hamilton.
“She’ll have to fend for herself,” said Kuttner, his eyes never leaving the viewer.
Hamilton regarded the old man. He was right, of course. Still, he wished there was another way.
“Don’t look so glum,” said Kuttner, straightening his uniform. “You’re all getting off this ship.” He slapped a button on his chair, opening the ship’s common circuit. “All hands, this is Captain Kuttner. Abandon ship. I repeat, abandon ship.”
He palmed the circuit closed. “Now, I want you to take Drizda and the rest of the command crew and get out of here. Drizda will still need to figure out a way to stop the Swarm.”
“Sir,” said Hudson. “What about you?”
“I’m staying.”
The rest of the crew stared at their commanding officer in disbelief.
“Without anyone to pilot the ship, it could get off course and miss its target. And once upon a time I used to be one hell of a pilot.”
“Do you realize what you’
re doing?” said Hamilton.
“Yeah, kid. I know. But it’s time for this captain to go down with his ship. Besides, I was never cut out for retirement anyway.” He winked. “Can you see me sitting on a quiet beach somewhere, getting sunburn?”
“It doesn’t suit you, no,” said Hamilton.
Kuttner turned to the navigator. “Hudson,” he snapped. “Pour on the speed. I want to shove our rail gun right up Straker’s ass.”
“It’s been an honor, sir,” said Hamilton.
“Same here, son. You’re one helluva leader.”
“You have shown more honor than an entire clutch of our fiercest Draconi warriors,” said Drizda. “My people will write war hymns about you.”
Kuttner dismissed this flattery with a wave of his hand. “One more thing before you go.” He reached into a small storage unit attached to the side of his command chair and pulled out a bottle full of amber liquid. The ship shook again as another depleted uranium shell struck, and he almost dropped it.
“Scotch,” he said. “A hundred years old. Spun up from Earth’s gravity well at considerable expense, I might add. Hell, it’s considered contraband on seven planets. Promise me when this nonsense is over that you’ll be the one to finally open and enjoy it.”
Hamilton took the bottle and nodded.
“Now all of you, get the hell off my ship. That’s an order.”
They left the command deck, Hamilton and Drizda leading the way. “What are we going to do now?” said Drizda. “Float in space in a lifepod with battling warships and Swarm probes all around us?”
“We need another ship, Commander,” added Brackett.
Hamilton nodded. “You are absolutely right. And I know just the one. Lieutenant, did you keep our souvenir?”
Brackett hefted the small tightbeam encoder that Dutton had used, and had until moments earlier been tied into their communications net. “Sure did.”
“Perfect. Let’s make a call.”
35 Kuttner’s Last Stand
Captain Henry Kuttner sat at the navigation controls of the now empty vessel. He hadn’t personally piloted a vessel in going on forty years, and that one had been a whole lot smaller than the Onslaught. It was a strange feeling. Different and yet very familiar. Like coming full circle.