Helium 3: Death from the Past (Helium-3 Book 2)

by Brandon Q. Morris

  “The attackers are moving at three-tenths light-speed. The distance from the front of the enemy ships to General Hooloor’s squadron, whose ships are closest to the enemy, is one hundred and forty-three million kilometers at this moment. The core firing range of General Hooloor’s guns is about one million kilometers and, consequently, will be reached in fifteen hundred and eighty-nine seconds. However, since I have no information on the maximum firing range of the enemy ships, I cannot rule out the possibility of hostile action occurring earlier.”

  The fleet admiral nodded in affirmation, and the avatar dissolved.

  Less than half an hour until the first shot is fired, Marty Joorthan thought. Less than half an hour until the beginning of the end, until the beginning of the battle that would decide whether humanity still had a future.

  The Artificials fleet began to split in two, as Joorthan could see in the holotank. But they were not attempting a pincer attack, as that would require half the ships to fly around the planet at length and would have taken several hours. Rather, it appeared that half of the fleet would aim directly at Krungthep, while the other half would probably tie up the defenses and allow the breakthrough. With about 140,000 ships per formation, the plan might even succeed.

  Now that the enemy’s thrust appeared to be set, Fleet Admiral Joorthan could regroup his own squadrons accordingly.

  “Generals Hooloor and Fallok, place your squadrons in the path of enemy units attempting to advance to Krungthep. Generals Klauter and Roschi, position your units in a second line behind to intercept enemy ships breaking through. Choose your intercept positions according to the battle situation.”

  The generals confirmed his orders, and Joorthan could see the squadrons accelerating in sync and beginning to regroup in space. He felt that it was better to give his subordinates maximum freedom in the battle. Experienced generals usually knew best what strategy and tactics promised the greatest chance for success on the front lines.

  The fleet admiral thought nothing of giving wise advice from the stage. He himself would have chosen an outwardly open hemispherical shield formation for the front line if it had been his squadrons. Joorthan could see from the tactical holo that Generals Hooloor and Fallok also thought this formation was the most tactically prudent.

  Their ships moved slightly forward and fanned out wide to form an intercepting net. Behind them, the other two squadrons strove for positions about 3,000,000 kilometers behind this first intercept line. They positioned themselves so that they could reach a possible breakthrough point as quickly as possible.

  That left the rest of his fleet.

  “Generals Chen and Koppa, advance at maximum speed and engage the rest of the enemy fleet directly. The attackers must be taken under fire before they can reach the first defensive position. These ships must not rush to the aid of the others or assist them in breaking through. Choose the tactics and formations that seem appropriate. I will support you with fifteen thousand of my units. The rest I will pull together around Krungthep as a last line of defense. Joorthan out!”

  The fleet admiral knew that he had just sent a third of his fleet on a suicide mission—and thus also condemned General Alexya Koppa, his oldest friend, companion, and lover, to death. But this hardly mattered. None of them would survive the battle in their current physical incarnation anyway—whether one died earlier or later did not make much difference.

  Even if he detached 15,000 of his own ships for this action, only 45,000 of the defender’s ships opposed over 140,000 enemy ships—an enemy superiority that was greater than 3:1! But the more Artificials ships he could tie up far from Krungthep, the fewer enemy ships could support those trying to break through. There, the numerical ratio was only 60,000 defenders against just over 140,000 attackers. And the smaller fleet possessed the ‘Inner Line,’ which had to be a disadvantage for the attacker.

  Perhaps this could delay the inevitable defeat by a few hours.

  Fleet Admiral Marty Joorthan knew he was going to die today. A few hours ago he had transferred a current copy of consciousness into the supercomputer deep under the surface of Krungthep. This procedure had long since ceased to be as complicated and elaborate as it had been in the early days of the technology.

  Immediately after his confirmed death, the copy would be transferred into an egomatrix and his next virtual incarnation could begin. Whether it would ever again become a physical incarnation was written in the stars.

  Joorthan had lost quite a few memories during his many copying processes, but he still remembered his first time quite clearly.

  4th of Zuhn, 299

  The whole planet was a single debris field. Kimi should not have been surprised, but the sight depressed her. Millions of living beings must have died down there. In contrast, the imminent extinction of the solar system was hardly worth mentioning—if it didn’t affect her children, her friends, her relatives, her people, and the Mendraki, with whom she was just beginning to make friends.

  “How are we supposed to find the supercomputer down there?” asked Norok. “Do you have something like a map?”

  “We don’t need maps,” Alexa replied, “The computer is everywhere.”

  “You mean there are terminals in lots of places that we can use to access it?”

  “No, the crust of the planet is hollowed out. The computer wraps around the mantle like a giant shell.”

  “People must have had a lot to calculate,” Kasfok said.

  “More likely to save it,” Alexa said, “They had their big plan, after all.”

  “What plan?”

  “I am not authorized to speak about it. But I’m sure Mart will be happy to answer your question, honored Netmaster.”

  Now Alexa also began to flatter Kasfok. She learned quickly. Kasfok brushed a few scales off his head with his forelegs. “The dance of thanks goes to you, most competent of ship’s controls,” he said.

  “I just wanted to remind you that Mart disappeared,” Norok said, “so he can’t answer any questions for us. What do you say now, Alexa?”

  Alexa did not respond.

  “Kimi, please command her to give me a meaningful answer.”

  The figure in the column disappeared. “I have to take care of the upcoming landing,” sounded from the loudspeaker.

  “The best thing you can do is find something to hold onto,” Alexa said.

  “Aren’t there any cushions we can use to absorb the pressure?” asked Norok.

  “No, the Sphere is constructed for humans, not for Iks or Mendraki.”

  “But there’s not even a handrail here.”

  Norok had been behaving like a child-Iks in its last few days before fledging.

  “Wait, Norok, I have an idea,” Kasfok said.

  The Mendrak stood so that his abdomen faced a corner of the room. Then he made a strong, almost rope-thick thread with the spinneret, strengthened it several times, and fastened it so that it sectioned off the corner. “That should be enough to hold on to,” he said.

  Kimi touched the rope. It was less sticky than they might have anticipated, which would help. Norok did not seem to think of answering the Mendraki. “Thank you, Kasfok,” she said.

  “Will the Sphere land on the surface, then?” asked Tolkut.

  “That’s not possible,” Alexa said. “I’d like to steer the ship into a low orbit, and from there, lower a space elevator to the surface, near an entrance to the computer underworld.”

  “You forget that Krungthep rotates very slowly,” Kimi said. “A stable stationary orbit is impossible.”

  Alexa didn’t seem to be that smart if an Iks had to explain orbital mechanics to her. Or did the Sphere know some magic tricks? The technology of the people was incredibly advanced, but they also had to obey physics.

  “That... That’s right. Sorry. I must have been distracted. What do you suggest, Administrator?”

  Kimi felt her face go hot. “Norok and I could just get out and fly down. We can survive in a vacuum for a while.”<
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  “Then Kasfok and Tolkut can’t join us,” Alexa said.

  “We can spin ourselves into a cocoon that you would have to carry down with you,” Kasfok said. “Can you manage our weight?”

  Kasfok informed Kimi of his mass. She multiplied the value by two to include Tolkut. They would have to carry them carefully, but it should be possible.

  “I think that works,” she said.

  “Wait a minute,” Alexa said, “You have to take me, too.”

  “But you don’t weigh anything.”

  “Not myself, true, but I need a container.”

  “Then one of the Mendraki will have to stay here,” Kimi said. “Would anyone volunteer to hold the fort? Kasfok? Tolkut?”

  Tolkut came forward. “I’ll stay here. Somebody’s got to look after the ship.”

  Three hours later, Tolkut and Kasfok had finished the cocoon that would provide shelter for Alexa and the Kasfok. Attached to the top was a sling of Mendraki silk about the length of a wing. The cocoon looked like a rather large egg lying on its side that someone had cracked the top of. But the shell didn’t seem hard and brittle. It was soft, almost fluffy, like the skin of a newly hatched Iks.

  Kimi had to swallow. A nursery worker was hatching her eggs, and when her children emerged, she would be far, far away. That she would ever get to see them seemed very unlikely to her right now.

  Kasfok put one foot in the opening. Are you sure you want to stay? he drummed with his other feet.

  Good luck, Netmaster. Our people are relying on you, Tolkut replied.

  The two were competitors, and if Kasfok really brought the coordinates of the Artificials’ home world, Tolkut’s importance would dwindle. But the Mendrak was thinking rationally. If they did not solve the problem, it would become immaterial who had what position among the Mendraki.

  Kasfok first pushed two legs and his head through the opening of the cocoon, then pulled the body behind. It was impressive to see how he squeezed through the narrow hole. Kasfok’s body seemed to be three times as large as the opening, but he still didn’t get stuck.

  “Now me,” Alexa said. The ship’s control unit was still inside the column.

  “But how?” asked Kimi.

  “You have to take the column off the base. It has a screw mechanism that holds it there.”

  Tolkut put his front legs against the column. Then he turned them slowly.

  “That’ll have to do,” Alexa said after three rotations.

  “And now?” asked Tolkut with the help of the translator.

  “Now someone has to carry me to the cocoon and put me inside.”

  Norok ran to the column, bent down, and put his wings around it. Then he straightened up again.

  “Pretty heavy,” he said, carrying the column to the cocoon. Once there, he put it down.

  “We’ll have some fun with this project. Do we really have to do it this way? When I imagine having to carry this thing for a couple of days... And, once we’re underway, it’s too late.”

  “I’m not a thing,” Alexa protested.

  That remains to be proven, thought Kimi.

  “You’re not going anywhere without me,” Alexa continued. “But if it makes you feel any better, all we need to do is find a terminal down there.”

  “What if the computer hasn’t been powered for 300,000 years?”

  “The computer is powered by heat from inside the planet, and Krungthep’s crust protects against attacks from above. That’s exactly why it was built there.”

  “The crust?”

  “Yes, about twenty kilometers of solid rock.”

  “That means we have to go that far down?” asked Norok.

  “Enough talking,” Kimi said. “Load Alexa into the cocoon, and off we go.”

  It was apparent to her why Norok was getting cold feet. Iks were creatures of height, not depth. The idea of entering a cave gave every Iks goosebumps. In children’s tales, disaster always came from the depths. But thinking about that wasn’t going to help. They had to simply not think about it.

  To her surprise, Norok obeyed immediately. Perhaps it was fear that made him not even notice that she had given him an order. Or was he glad that she had taken the reins?

  “Okay, you can close the opening,” Norok said.

  Tolkut began work immediately.

  “Are you guys ready?” Alexa’s voice sounded clear and distinct from the speakers, even though she was in the cocoon with the column. Which part of her was traveling right now? Apparently, she was able to leave fragments behind.

  “Yeah, we’re good to go,” Kimi said.

  It would take them a while, flying first through the inside of the Sphere and then traveling onward through the outer sphere. Suddenly the air roared. At their back, on the wall that had just shown the surface of the planet, a rectangular opening had appeared, behind which there was apparently negative pressure. Tolkut, standing in the corner, secured himself with a catch thread.

  “It’s an emergency escape tunnel,” Alexa explained. “Mart called it ‘the trunk,’ which means nothing to me. It leads out in a relatively direct route.”

  Norok tapped her. Kimi understood and took hold of the transport strap with her beak. Norok reached for it as well. Then they lifted their bearable load. They would be able to fly a few hours with it in any case. The mission back on the first planet of the solar system had been more exhausting.

  Kimi spread her wings. Norok understood the signal—the trunk was wide enough. She flapped her wings, took off, and headed for the entrance of the escape tunnel. The air current helped her along. Just beyond the entrance, the tunnel bent downward. Gravity showed her the way. She needed her wings mainly to keep from going too fast. The darkness was not a problem. Iks practiced formation flying shortly after taking wing—and they mastered it without seeing each other, because it was enough to make out the pressure differences caused by their neighbors’ wing beats.

  Much faster than expected, they exited the trunk. Kimi glanced back. The Sphere did not shine blue, as she knew it, but red, which had to be because the ship was orbiting in the upper layers of the atmosphere. Hopefully Alexa had taken that into account.

  Kimi took a deep breath. The air was very thin up here, but she had enough reserves. The sun was just above the horizon. Still, they would not see a sunset—they had to stay in the shadow zone. Where the sun was high in the sky, it was too hot, and where it got really dark, too cold. The zone of moderate temperature was about 300 kilometers wide—enough space to land.

  Kimi looked over at Norok. It was perhaps an inappropriate moment, but she felt freer than she had in a long time, and her partner seemed to share that feeling. Even from a distance, she saw his eyes shining.

  The zone of darkness was approaching. The Sphere had given them a decent boost of orbital speed. Kimi tried to turn but could not. The world was apparently spinning too fast beneath them. ‘Apparently,’ because in reality, of course, it was they who were moving too fast. Three hundred kilometers had seemed enough for her to be able to brake, but it was nowhere near enough.

  Frantically, she looked at Norok, who had already noticed her anxiety. Now he was again the Norok who had rescued her from the cloud layers of the gas giant, the level-headed companion who could solve any problem. Because of the transport strap in their beaks, they could not talk, but every Iks learned a sign language with wings and tail for such cases.

  Hold altitude, Norok gave her to understand. Accelerate.

  Accelerate? They had to reduce their speed! But she did not protest. And then she understood. It was too late already. They had to fly across the dark side of Krungthep to land in the opposite shadow zone, but how long would that take? She wasn’t worried about herself. The air was so thin up here that the cold hardly bothered her yet. At the same time, it was dense enough to supply her body, which was adapted to altitude, with enough oxygen, especially since they could cover long distances in energy-saving gliding flight.

  But how was
Kasfok faring, riding in his cocoon? True, she knew that Mendraki could shut down their metabolism. But how far? If they were unlucky, she and Norok would have to retrieve a dead body from the cocoon after landing. That would be terrible.

  Kasfok had fought the Iks at first, but now he had become an important ally. He was their friend. Kasfok must not die.

  The darkness became all-encompassing once the last bright stripe on the horizon disappeared. They flew in a steady rhythm. Kimi couldn’t see Norok, but through the strap they both had in their beaks, she was firmly connected to him and immediately noticed when he slowed down to rest or to get his bearings. Fortunately, the planet had a magnetic field that showed them the way, thanks to the magnetic organ in their heads.

  Unfortunately, the strap also meant that they could not talk to each other, so Kimi was lost in her thoughts. She thought about her eggs, which were being incubated many light-years away. And not by her, their mother. And, she probably wouldn’t be able to watch her children grow up either, unless their mission here failed and they found no trace of the Artificials. Then they could fly back on the last of their fuel, and Kimi would have to watch as her entire people, and with them, her newborn children, were swallowed up by an expanding sun.

  Wing plague and bleaching of the beak.

  She felt a tug on the strap. Kimi looked at Norok, who had his head angled slightly up. What was there to see in the sky?

  Kimi was so amazed that she almost opened her beak. Magnetic lights! Green ribbons waved above them, a beautiful light show that seemed almost magical.

  At the boundary of atmosphere and space, someone had stretched green glowing bands of cloth. The light seemed bright, but the surroundings persisted in their blackness. The lengths of fabric seemed to hang in nothingness, in a void that she and Norok traversed with the steady beating of wings. Kimi felt deep gratitude, even though she knew the natural cause of the phenomenon.