As rage continued to course through him, Jake noticed something else: the merging process had stopped. He’d regained control of the mech, it seemed, though it had cost him dearly.
Chapter 58
Ordnance in Play
The Vesta reemerged into the Progenitor home system, at the coordinates Husher had judged most likely to yield results: near Earth’s hulking orbital station.
As he’d expected, the enemy ships had displaced themselves to engage the Pythons attacking the station, which was clearly important to the system’s defense—probably to the entire Progenitor military.
“Missiles, Tremaine,” Husher said.
The Tactical officer nodded, then executed the sequence that would launch the barrage they’d already discussed: mostly Banshees, though Gorgons were overrepresented.
He hadn’t bothered ordering his Tactical officer to calculate firing solutions that avoided the orbital station. In fact, many of the missiles would hit it, if they missed their initial targets and were allowed to continue on.
But Husher was counting on the station being important enough that the Progenitors wouldn’t allow it to be hit.
On the tactical display, he watched as his gamble quickly paid off: the enemy seemed to realize just how many stealth missiles he’d included in the barrage, and twelve of the fifteen remaining Progenitor ships converged on them, attempting to neutralize the Banshees while combing space with their sensors to locate and destroy the Gorgons.
Husher permitted himself a smile. No transitioning out to dodge my missiles this time. Not with your most valuable asset behind you. “Tremaine, sweep them with kinetic impactors.”
“Aye, Captain.”
A slight tremor ran through the Vesta as every forward gun opened up, spraying kinetic impactors across the battle space.
Ravagers poured hastily from launch tubes, but there was too much ordnance in play, along too many randomized trajectories.
Explosions soon lit up enemy hulls, and moments later, they began to appear on the station behind as well.
A carrier exploded, followed by another, then a destroyer.
“Follow up with our primary laser. Direct it at the closest carrier.” No need to conserve capacitor charge. We won’t be transitioning out again. Husher tapped his console to indicate the ship he meant on the main viewscreen, since he could no longer share an Oculens overlay with his Tactical officer.
“Firing primary,” Tremaine said, and seconds later, the immense energy transfer ripped apart the carrier in question.
The three enemy warships who hadn’t moved to clean up missiles—two destroyers and a carrier—had already transitioned out, and now they appeared behind the Vesta, unleashing a missile barrage of their own as both destroyers targeted the supercarrier with particle beams.
“Helm, activate starboard thrusters at full power,” Husher ordered. “Coms, call three Python squadrons off the station.”
Even with those squadrons backing them up, Husher wasn’t confident they would survive the next attack. Most of the Air Group had been destroyed since attacking the station. There were barely two hundred fighters left. Destroying four enemy ships in one fell swoop had been gratifying, but he’d known it couldn’t last.
An explosion rocked the Vesta, jostling Husher violently in his seat. “Damage report.”
“Particle beam just blew out a secondary engine, sir,” Winterton said.
Another explosion. “That was a main battery of point defense turrets. They blew inward, killing at least five crew.”
Husher stared bleakly at the Tactical display. We just need to hold on a little longer. But he wasn’t sure they could.
“Tremaine, let’s use up the rest of our Banshees. For starters, lob them at the ships targeting us with particle beams—see does that throw them off.”
“Aye,” the Tactical officer said, though he didn’t sound hopeful.
Husher’s eyes were glued to the tactical display shown by his console, which wasn’t limited to the immediate engagement. Instead, it showed an expanded view of the entire system.
“The enemy is targeting our starboard main reactor, sir.”
“Spin us around, Helm. Coms, order that reactor shut down as fast as safely possible.”
“Aye, Captain.”
Then, Husher saw it: thirteen icons appeared on his display at the center of the system, near the sun. They were speeding toward one of the four strange structures Winterton had identified during their initial trip down-system.
He made it in time. Ayam made it.
A wave of missiles poured out of that structure, toward the subspace-capable Python squadron, but they transitioned out at the last second.
When they transitioned back in, another wave of missiles was there to greet them, and they lost a fighter before they could transition out again.
With their third appearance, they delivered an alpha strike, which connected solidly with the structure. It burst apart.
The forcefield surrounding the system lurched inward, swallowing the Kuiper Belt whole.
Chapter 59
Alpha Strike in Parting
“Transmission request incoming, Captain,” Ensign Fry said.
Husher nodded. “Put it on the main screen.”
His double appeared, his face flushed with rage, which didn’t come as a surprise. If Husher was right about what the hollowed-out asteroids in the Kuiper Belt had contained, then he’d likely just taken out the majority of the system’s agricultural base. Clearly, the Progenitors were capable of bringing in resources from other dimensions, but coming up with a replacement for a food system designed to feed billions was hard to do on short notice.
“What in Sol are you doing?” the other Husher demanded. “You’ll kill us all. All of your people will die!”
“And yours.” On the tactical display, Husher saw that Ayam and his fighters were already engaging the second forcefield generator, weaving in and out of reality to dodge the missiles it deployed. “As for my people, they’re soldiers, and they knew they would likely die here.”
His double’s scar had turned an angry red, much redder than the rest of his face. On the tactical display, Husher noticed three destroyers and two carriers disappear, and he felt like he had a pretty good idea where they were headed. “What about the civilians aboard your ship?” his double said. “I know they’re there. My intel is extensive.”
“Not extensive enough. I offloaded the population of Cybele before I left the Kaithian system.”
Other Husher’s lips peeled back, baring his teeth. “Quit trying to bluff me, all right? You went to a lot of trouble to get your forces to Ragnarok Station, and I know it’s because you expect to find prisoners there. Besides, this system is littered with civilians, too. Earth alone has twelve billion of them. You’re not about to let them die.”
The second generator exploded, and the forcefield contracted again, eating Pluto, Neptune, Uranus, and Saturn.
The color was beginning to drain from other Husher’s face, now. “You just killed millions of humans.”
“Then my soul is blackened by it,” Husher said, surprised at how cold and bitter his own voice sounded. “But I will kill billions more. Yes, I sent forces to your station—because I always play to the best possible outcome, and if we win here, then I’ll take those prisoners home. But I always prepare for the worst outcome, too. Let me tell you the worst outcome I’m willing to tolerate, since apparently you don’t already know. You’ve killed hundreds of billions of my people, and I include all Union species in that. You’ve forced the survivors to flee their homes, and even now, your forces attack them with the aim to exterminate. Yes, my soul is blackened. But you forced my hand, you bastard, and I’ll annihilate this wretched system before I’ll ever stand by while you murder my society—my family.”
As Ayam’s fighters neared the third generator, five Progenitor ships appeared in their path, just a handful of kilometers out from the structure. They unleashed everyt
hing they had at the incoming Pythons, but the fighters simply dropped back into subspace.
Even so, the Progenitors had left as little space between them and the generator as possible: not enough for Ayam to pop in and destroy it. Not at the speed they were traveling at.
Husher held his breath until the subspace squadron reentered realspace once more…beyond the generator. The instant they returned, they loosed their alpha strike in parting.
Their timing was immaculate. They’d fired their missiles too close-in to the generator for the five Progenitor ships to react. The precision of Ayam and his pilots was such that the resulting explosion came close to engulfing their fighters.
The system’s forcefield collapsed down until the border of this universe lay a couple light seconds away, just outside Earth’s orbit.
“Please,” the other Husher said. “Please. My son is on Earth.”
Husher grimaced, his stomach churning as he paused to contemplate what twisted creature this version of himself might have produced as a son.
Then, he nodded at his Coms officer—the signal for her to send Ayam the order to hold.
Turning back to his double, he said, “Fifteen minutes. That’s how long you have to call your ships here and have their crews abandon them. You will all present yourselves on the Vesta’s Flight Deck Epsilon, where you’ll turn yourselves over to my custody. If you haven’t vacated your ships within fifteen minutes, you will die, since that’s when I intend to burn them from space.”
“It’ll be done.”
“I suggest you hurry.”
Chapter 60
Old Friend
Husher strode onto Flight Deck Epsilon. At his back were all three marine platoons who’d remained on the Vesta.
Normally he did his best to dodge marine escorts, but with the thousands and thousands of enemy prisoners now arriving on his ship, he wasn’t going to take any chances.
Thankfully, Major Gamble and the rest of what remained of the Vesta marine battalion was returning at the same time. That was good. They’d need all hands on deck in order to properly search their new prisoners, escort them to Cybele, and figure out where to put them.
Before long, Husher came face to face with himself, the other’s scar the only feature to distinguish them for others, apart from their uniforms. He wondered whether even the man’s soulless stare might not be reflected in his own face, after what had happened with the forcefield—after what he’d done.
Millions of civilians, gone. History won’t look kindly on me for that. He doubted the IU would, either. He’d followed the only path to victory open to him. His choice had been between allowing the Progenitors to win and doing what he’d done.
Even so, his mind reeled at it, trying to disassociate itself from his actions. He told himself that if the Progenitors had been allowed to win, they would have gone on to wreak untold carnage, not only in his native universe but across the multiverse as well.
What if my government goes on to wreak similar carnage? I must not allow that, either. I must use whatever influence I have left to prevent it.
He reminded himself of Ochrim, in that moment, whose reasoning he had once denounced. Husher had just killed millions to save billions—possibly trillions or more, if you counted what the Progenitors would surely have gone on to do.
Even so, the blood on his hands was no less red.
“Are you going to say anything?” his double asked.
Husher realized he’d allowed himself to become lost in thought while staring vacantly at his double’s face. “I expect full cooperation from you and your people,” he said at last. “I can return to this system at any time to destroy the last generator. Never forget that, and never doubt my willingness to do it if you push me.”
The other Husher gave a curt nod, adding nothing else.
Husher continued: “For now, we’re taking you back to the Kaithian home system, where you will order your forces to stand—”
“You’ll need me to deactivate the AIs,” his double broke in.
Husher narrowed his eyes. “You can do that?”
“I can, using the kill codes.”
“Why would they give you kill codes for AIs in a universe you’ve never been to?”
“As a last line of defense,” the other Husher said. “The AIs were programmed never to interface with technology that allowed travel between the dimensions, but in the event they managed to circumvent that programming and travel here, my orders were to broadcast the kill codes and shut them down.”
“Right.” Husher shook his head. “The AIs you set loose on us are what brought your side such success. I still don’t get why you’re this eager to deactivate them.”
His double’s eyes locked onto his, burning with a mix of anger and frustration. “Don’t you get it? I have to deactivate them. I expect to be a prisoner going forward, meaning I won’t be here to protect what you’ve left of this system. If I don’t stop them, there’s a chance they’ll make it here someday, to threaten my son or his children. I won’t allow that. Besides, I also expect you’ll take me to your dimension, and if that’s the case then I have just as much incentive to stop them as you do. No one is safe sharing a universe with superintelligences, not even their creators. Why do you think all of our warships are crewed by Ixa? Other than a few select agents, most Progenitors have avoided your universe at all costs.”
Slowly, Husher nodded. “Okay.”
“I’ll provide you with their locations throughout your local galactic cluster.”
“Very well. What about the ships you sent against us—were they built in this system?”
The double frowned. “No. They were constructed in facilities also scattered across your galactic cluster.”
“Then were they installed with deactivations codes, too? Surely you have little trust for the Ixa.”
A pause. Then: “Yes. Individual codes, as well as a master code.”
“Give me the master code. I intend to broadcast it the moment we return to the Kaithian home system. If it doesn’t work, I won’t consult you about it. I’ll just return here and finish destroying this system. So do not lie, and do not make a mistake as you recite it.”
At that moment, Jake Price’s mech rocketed down from an airlock overhead, landing beside the two Hushers.
Husher expected some pithy remark, but Price gave none. Instead, he lifted a great metal hand to indicate a shuttle that was touching down fifty meters off.
“There’s someone you may want to see.”
Price’s mech opened up, then, its front extending to the floor as a ramp. Price tumbled out of the tight cockpit, trailing blood all down the ramp until he came to a stop on the deck.
Husher’s eyes went wide. Past the elbows, the petty officer’s arms no longer existed, and his legs were gone past the knees. The wounds looked partially cauterized, but he was still bleeding profusely. A patch of blood was spreading across his back, as well.
“Medic!” Husher barked.
Soon, Price was surrounded by medical personnel, who worked to staunch the bleeding and to stabilize him.
Before they took Price to sick bay, Husher bent down toward him where he lay on the collapsible gurney.
“Good work, son,” he said.
Price’s eyes fluttered open, which Husher hadn’t been expecting. He spoke, but his voice was too weak to hear, so Husher bent lower.
“Launch my mech into the sun,” Price rasped.
Slowly, Husher nodded. Then the medics took the petty officer away.
When he turned, he came face to face with Fesky, who was flanked by two more medics supporting her.
“Old friend,” Husher said softly, approaching to embrace her. But as he neared, Fesky flinched away.
Turning slowly, Husher’s gaze locked onto his double’s. “What did you do to her?”
The other Husher’s expression didn’t change, but Husher thought he detected satisfaction lurking beneath it—satisfaction at the deep bond he’d
managed to destroy.
“You’d better get back to your galaxy, Captain,” the other Husher said, “while there’s something left to return to.”
Chapter 61
The Moment I Return
The IGS Vesta transitioned back into the Milky Way. As close to Home as they could get.
Husher turned to the tactical display. As expected, most of the Progenitor ships still clustered around the planet.
But that was where reality stopped conforming with his expectations.
“Winterton,” he said. “Are you seeing what I’m seeing?”
“I believe so, sir,” the sensor operator said, his tone one of wonder.
The attacking Progenitor fleet had taken heavy losses…but the defending forces had taken far fewer than he’d expected, having regrouped around Home in tight formations. And, apparently, having given the enemy absolute hell.
Ek spoke up. “While the allied fleet’s performance is remarkable, the Progenitors still have far greater numbers. If the battle is allowed to progress, our fleet will surely fall.”
Husher shook his head, feeling slightly annoyed at the Fin’s analysis. “The fact we came back to find the allied fleet intact at all is a near miracle.”
But then, as though to underscore Ek’s words, Husher witnessed the destruction of three IGF destroyers, in quick succession. A Quatro warship followed seconds later, then another, and then a Gok missile cruiser.
“Broadcast the code,” Husher ordered.
“Aye, sir,” Ensign Amy Fry replied.
He’d ordered the Vesta to transition as close to the planet as possible, which he’d expected would shut down the most enemy ships the quickest.
He was right. The Vesta’s broadcast spread throughout the system, and enemy ships stopped shooting, stopped maneuvering. They drifted along their previous courses instead, and Husher saw that there was now a risk of collisions between the Progenitor ships and allied ships—or worse, between enemy ships and the planet.
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