The Raygin War

by Larry S. Gerovac

  Mahpee picked out the tallest tree in the area and began to climb. He stopped at an opening in the leaves and looked through his viewer. At a glance the whole planet appeared the same. He felt a chill run through him. It’s a harvest planet, a planet designed to support the Raygin war effort. The three Raygin ships must have come here to restock supplies. For the past twenty-five years they have been preparing for war by bioengineering planets. Planet building like this seems beyond the capabilities of Raygin technology. Could it be their invisible allies had a hand in helping them? Right now, I have too many questions and not enough answers.

  Another ten meters of climbing put him above the other trees. The heat from the sun warmed his face. He sucked in the fresh air and began to scan the horizon. He paused and focused his eyes on a spot in the far distance. He zoomed the viewer in on a huge column of smoke. It had to be the Raygin ship crash site. Forty-one point eight kilometers or about twenty-six miles. That’s not too bad. In this low gravity, traveling light, I could be there in about two point five hours.

  At least I won’t have to pack food. I’ve seen enough. Mahpee and the crew headed back to the ship. When they arrived, both Bodaway and Nashta were looking at the damaged ion thruster.

  Mahpee walked to the ship’s aft end to look at the mangled thrusters. “How bad is the damage?”

  “It’s severe,” said Nashta.

  “Can you fix it?”

  “No, I can’t fix it. Not without a foundry to shape new metal components. Even if I had one, the repair would be temporary until we got to a ship yard or space station.”

  Bodaway started laughing. “Nashta, tell him before he has your hide.”

  “Tell me what?” asked Mahpee.

  Bodaway pointed at the twisted ion thruster. “Look Mahpee.”

  Mahpee stared at the thruster. “I don’t understand. I don’t see anything but a damaged thruster.”

  “Keep looking.”

  Mahpee stared without blinking. His eyes began to water. A structural crack began to close. He wiped his eyes and stared some more. A crinkle in the metal began to smooth over. “How is this possible?”

  “Nashta thinks he figured it out,” said Bodaway, “your grandfather isn’t your grandfather. He is a collection of nanobots.”

  Mahpee turned and looked at Nashta. “Explain.”

  “Remember the explosion at the university lab? I was trying to meld my nanobot with the Raygin luminescent organism from their computer. I wanted to see if I could get the nanobots to learn. I programmed a bible of sorts off the top of my head using a machine source code which cannot be overwritten.”

  “Off the top of your head? Oh Nashta. Please tell me you remember what limiting parameters you programmed into them.”

  “I can’t. I don’t remember the parameters, but I know they seemed good at the time.” Nashta looked at Mahpee. “I know, I know. It sounds bad, but you have to realize I was testing my supposition in a controlled laboratory environment. I didn’t expect to create a new life form!”

  “You mean these hybrid nanobots are alive?”

  “For all practical purposes. They think, learn, and replicate on their own. They can’t kill the aliens because it is against the source code I wrote.”

  Mahpee’s grandfather’s head loomed out from the crumpled metal. He said, “You do know we can hear every word you say?”

  Mahpee pointed at his grandfather’s face. “Did you build a switch to turn them off?” asked Mahpee.

  His grandfather shook his head no, smiled, and disappeared into the surface once again.

  “No, I never thought it would get this far,” said Nashta.

  “How long will their energy last before they need to recharge?”

  “I made the nanobots self-charging. They can use electricity, light, heat, static charge, and conductive surfaces. I’m not sure how else they may have modified themselves. They can enhance themselves, but they cannot reprogram their source code,” said Nashta.

  “How did they read our minds?”

  “I’m guessing they entered our brains via our noses. Memory is nothing more than encoded connections in the brain. They occur from the firing of neurons. It would be simple for a sentient nanobot to trigger our memories and read them. I think we can tell if they trigger our memories because they will be the thoughts foremost in our mind.”

  “I think you’re wrong. Random thoughts happen all day long. How can you tell random from triggered? As soon as you think about a memory it fires more memories. Try not to think of something and it becomes what you don’t what to think about. Can you talk to these nanobots?”

  “I have tried, but as you saw, they appear when they want to, not on command. The nanobot in them may focus on one primary task at a time. I don’t know. The truth is I know nothing about them.”

  “Can you destroy them?”

  “Well, I guess it is possible. But I did program them for self-survival. Part of their code says they may not directly take another sentient being’s life. I can now see this rather simple statement may be a problem. If you are planning their destruction, and if they get inside you, they would know what you are thinking. Mahpee, I hate to bring this up, but they might be able to take control of your mind for self-preservation.”

  “Wouldn’t that be against the source code you programmed into them?”

  “I don’t know. It depends how they interpret the code.”

  “How did they get on the Wasp, and how many are there?”

  “I programmed one. After the explosion, we couldn’t find it. I may have brought it aboard. To answer the last part of your question, for us to see a solid form, I’d estimate there to be at least millions of them.”

  “How is it they reproduce so fast? Why are they helping us fix the ship?” asked Mahpee.

  “The more of them there are the faster they can reproduce. I don’t know why they are helping us. Maybe we are the simplest method of escape off this planet.”

  “You’re just full of good news, aren’t you? Bodaway, remind me, was it your idea or mine to make Nashta a crewmember?”

  Nashta’s shoulders slumped.

  “It was your idea chief.”

  Mahpee walked over to the dispirited Nashta and patted him on the shoulder. “You know, my intuition is seldom wrong. I trust you,” the chief gave him a stern eye, “Keep trying to talk to them, and find out their intentions. Maybe we can help each other.”

  Nashta perked up. “Don’t worry chief, I’ll find a way to communicate with them.” The young engineer walked back into the ship leaving the repairs to the nanobots. He seemed determined to solve the communication problem.

  “How long do you estimate it will take the nanobots to fix the ion drive?” asked Mahpee.

  “Oh – at this rate, I’d guess about six more hours,” said Bodaway.

  “Perfect. I saw smoke on the horizon. It must be the crashed bug ship. I’m going to investigate and see if I can learn anything from their ship.”

  “There may be survivors. You better take Nidawi with you.”

  The chief frowned. He didn’t need someone to protect him. In the old days chiefs protected themselves, as would any warrior. Ever since the Raygin attack the leaders worried about him. The council assigned him a shadow walker to be with him any time he went off Nokomis.

  He pictured his young daughter training to become proficient in hand-to-hand combat. Participating in thousands of matches and demonstrations in front of audiences. There was no doubt about her skill. But Nidawi trained in secret. Toiling at learning her special skill set. Seeking perfection. It was her sole purpose in life. She learned to kill any threat whether human or animal. She even learned Raygin physiology during her training. Now that he thought about it, Bodaway had given him good counsel after all. He would take her.

  The two traveled light. Mahpee followed close behind Nidawi. As she ran, he could see some of her weapons tucked away in her armor. If there were five weapons he could see, he knew there were f
ifteen he couldn’t. At the quick pace she set, he felt sure they would be at the crash site well within two and a half standard hours.

  *****

  The perimeter was set up. Dreng supervised the preparations to move the wounded. Mac managed to pound his helmet into submission. His receiver could pick up Third platoon again. He waited for them while watching for other threats. After about twenty minutes, he heard Dwain shouting out orders. In the background, he could hear weapon fire. Mac moved into the Raygin ship to see if he could find the troops and give them a hand.

  As he rounded a corner Mac found himself behind eight bugs. It looked like Dwain got pinned between two groups of Raygin. Mac didn’t want to use his Buzzard in the long corridor for fear the high velocity round would go through the target and hit his own troops.

  “Semore,” yelled Dwain.

  Mac moved behind the corner and waited. Semore was the nickname for a cluster grenade designed for close quarter fighting. You could roll it or throw it like a ball.

  WAUUUUM.

  Mac felt a massive pressure wave speed down the passageway.

  A bug came running around the corner on four legs. It didn’t see him. They collided and tumbled over. Mac recovered and leapt onto the disorientated bug. He pulled his knife out of its sheath and stuck the tip under the bug’s armor against its thorax. Mac smelled the air. It stank. He began to wonder if his bug had shit its pants. He remembered with some relief bugs communicated with chemical odors. Understanding the threat to its life it decided not to move.

  “Dwain, Mac. I’m in a side passageway behind where you tossed the Semore. I captured a bug. I’m bringing it back with us.”

  “Dwain, copy. We found sixty-seven humans. They say they are the last survivors from their group of captives. We’re heading out with about fifty bugs on our tail. Mac, there are hundreds of bugs alive in here. Most of them have rifles.”

  “Mac, copy.” While they were communicating Mac bound the bug’s clawed arms behind it. He also bound its legs to prevent full movement. He helped the bug to its feet and headed back to the exit point.

  “Dreng, Mac. Put a few troopers in place to give Third platoon some cover in case they need it.”

  “Dreng copy, already done. We are also ready for the prisoner.”

  Mac smiled. She would go far in Fleet Command if she decided to stay. When Third platoon arrived, they wasted no time in getting everyone on the ground, including the prisoner. Five members of Third platoon stayed in the passageway to keep any marauding bugs at bay.

  The survivors greeted each other and began to discuss their experience. Mac had to cut the reunion short. Too many armed bugs to stay and fight it out. Plus, with two Raygin fighters circling overhead, the humans didn’t stand a chance. Mac hoped his plan would increase their odds a little bit. He walked up to Smitty, who was talking to another survivor.

  “Smitty, I need about twenty volunteers to set up the fighters so we can take a clear shot at them. It will be our single chance to take them out. The assignment will be risky.”

  “Mac, this is Captain Cutter, he’s from the Nomad. He can get you the volunteers better than I can.”

  A short, well-built, young military sergeant stepped forward towards Mac. “I was on Imperial Station when we got attacked. They call me Spaz. I’ll be your first volunteer if you’ll let a ground pounder join your spec ops team.”

  “We’re not spec ops Spaz, but we’d be glad to have you fight with us. We are three platoons of ground pounders. You should fit right in.” Mac reached his arm out and shook hands with Spaz.

  Spaz looked at the body armor on the soldiers. He glanced at the new rifles. He couldn’t help but see Dreng carrying two hatchets in her belt. These were all the hallmarks of spec ops.

  Before he could say anything, Smitty said, “Don’t bother arguing, Spaz. They have been told to tell us they are not here. Even though we see them, they won’t admit spec ops is here. ”

  Mac didn’t have time to explain it to the survivors. He walked up to his two platoon leaders. “I need three troopers from each of you. I am going to take twenty volunteers from the hostages and sprint across the open field toward the skiff.”

  “You want the fighters to see you?” asked Dreng.

  “Yes. Grouped together we should paint a good return on the fighter’s thermal detector. We will form a line when we see them heading our way. I want them to line up behind us for a strafing run. Tinker will be ready with the anti-matter cannon.”

  “Let me do it instead of you,” said Dwain. “We can’t let you risk your life.”

  Surprising everyone Dwain walked up to Mac, put his hand on his shoulder. “I didn’t think much of you at first. I got to say I think you might be the real deal. Do you plan on getting married to Dreng?”

  Mac was caught off guard by the question. Damn Dwain. The books all said never talk marriage in the beginning of a relationship. “Why do you want to know?”

  “If you are, I was going to volunteer for the job, with the promise you would name your first-born child after me if I die.” Dwain grinned.

  Disbelief showed on Dreng’s face. Mac started laughing.

  “Sorry Dwain, you’re going to have to name your own kids, not ours. Besides, I don’t ask my troops to do anything I wouldn’t do myself. I’m going.”

  “I was hoping you’d say that. Names are overrated anyway,” said Dwain.

  “Mac, Have you been thinking about… children?” Asked Dreng.

  Before he could answer Fishman interrupted, “Mac.”

  He turned to see Fishman pointing in the sky.

  “The fighters.”

  The Raygin were starting to search the next quadrant over. It wouldn’t be long before they were in the perfect position. He could hear as the troopers behind them began to fire at the bugs, trying to get off the ship. They weren’t stupid. It wouldn’t be long before they found another way down.

  Mac turned to Dreng and Dwain. “Get everyone together, let’s start moving. Stay in the underbrush and have the troopers protecting our six follow a short distance behind. Erase our trail. For now want to evade, not engage them. I’m going to check on the fight above us.”

  The battle was still going on. Warhammer and Dagger had joined the fray. It looked like each of the original UFC ships was damaged to some extent. The Raygin ship was taking on an enormous amount of weapon fire, but their shields seemed to be holding. The fight couldn’t go on like this or in time, the Raygin would win. Mac contemplated their plight. He remembered hearing Smitty say they were in engineering when the ship went down.

  Hustling over to Smitty he asked, “Did I hear right earlier? You were in the Raygin ship’s engineering department when it went down?”

  “Yeah. We snuck in through the ship’s ventilation system, killed the bugs, and took control. We tripped all power to everything by accident.”

  “The battle above is not going our way, said Mac. “Our ships are taking a pounding and we can’t seem to get through the Raygin shields. Any ideas from what you saw?”

  “Yeah. The sons of bitches have two ion drives. If they’re not moving, or using position thrusters, they can divert all power to the shields. The trick would be to make them use their main thrusters. They would have to divert power to make a big move. The problem is they can sit still all day and wait for help which is sure to come.”

  “I’ll relay the info, in the hopes someone can come up with a plan while we take care of business down here.” Mac called the Dagger’s captain and explained what Smitty had seen in the bugs’ engineering room. She told Mac she had an idea and needed to go. Mac felt a little better. He hoped the new information gave them a fighting chance. “Dreng, take the lead. Stop when you get to the clearing’s edge. Dwain cover our six.”

  After about two hours of hiking through underbrush Dreng reported she had arrived. The bulk of survivors were still moving through the forest following her lead. Dwain reported the bugs were grouping outside the ship but s
eemed reluctant to leave. They were not following the humans.

  The human volunteers grouped together with Mac.

  “Tinker, Mac. We’re in place, are you ready?”

  “We anchored the gun and set it up to shoot between the split in the tree. I already flipped the switch to make a projectile. It’s warming up or doing whatever it does to get ready.”

  Everyone with a headset heard the whirling noise in the background as the canon warmed up.

  “It’s going to take a few minutes to make an anti-particle round,” said Mac.

  The survivors watched the Raygin fighters began to search in their quadrant. There wasn’t time to wait. They had to act now.

  “Ready or not, here we come,” said Mac.

  “Mac, wait. I’m not sure its power supply is working.”

  “No time to wait. We are out of options. Here we come.”

  Mac led the team into the open field. Several troopers and Mac would remain cloaked until the fighters got close. They would de-cloak and fire their laser rifles. He didn’t expect to take down a fighter with rifle fire, but the pilots wouldn’t know the humans didn’t have anti fighter weapons. To be safe the pilots would break off their approach and evaluate the enemy. This would give Tinker time to get the canon ready to fire. It would take the Raygin pilots one or two minutes to come around for a second run.

  “Shit, Mac. The battery doesn’t have enough juice to launch the projectile. The power must have leaked out while the canon sat in storage for so long. I’m trying to hook up a few laser rifles to the power supply. Give me a minute.”

  All eyes watched as the fighters lined up to shoot the fleeing prisoners.

  “Too late to wait,” said Mac, “the Raygin fighters are maneuvering into position.”