Shadow Sun Progression: Shadow Sun Book Four

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Shadow Sun Progression: Shadow Sun Book Four Page 26

by Dave Willmarth


  “Big bugs?” Gene asked, his eyes wide. Meg cursed quietly behind Allistor.

  Harmon looked at his wrist, then grimaced. “Confirmed. It is an araneae harvester, one of the large ones. Hovering over a vast lake. Presumably, they intend to harvest the water and fauna within.” He paused, registering Gene’s question. “The araneae are the largest of the insectoid races. Both in individual physical stature, and in population across the Collective. Hence the term ‘big bugs’. A relatively peaceful race, they breed quickly, each female hatching a brood of several hundred every few years. When there is an unusually rapid population increase, they colonize a new world and harvest its resources. Generally, they purchase these worlds legally. But when they become desperate, their base survival instincts override their fear of reprisal, and they become poachers.”

  “Nope. Giant spiders laying hundreds of eggs? I’m out.” Meg turned to leave the bridge, Sam grabbing the back of her shirt and holding her in place. “Allistor, you just use the fancy guns on this ship and blast that thing out of the sky, and we can all go home.” She looked suspiciously at Sam. “And no, we are not gonna be cooking spider meat!”

  Harmon’s head shook on the screen, even as he chuckled. “Their meat is quite tasty, Lady Meg. A chef with your skills could make some wondrous dishes…” His voice faded as she glared at him. Clearing his throat, he changed topics. “I doubt we have the capability to shoot down a large harvester. You will see for yourselves, momentarily. And even could we accomplish the task, it would devastate a large swath of land around the lake.”

  Ever the curious engineer, Gene asked, “Just how large is this thing?”

  Harmon pushed a few buttons, and a hologram appeared on the screen where his face had been. It showed a nearly spherical structure with seams along its sides. “In your earth measurements, this harvester would be approximately one and one half miles in diameter.” A red line stretched across the image at its widest point.

  “Holy death star, Chewy.” Sam mumbled, wrapping a protective arm around Meg, who had turned back to view the image. She elbowed him in the ribs.

  “Did you just call me a wookie?”

  Ignoring them both, Allistor asked “How would we fight a thing like that?”

  Gralen actually responded before Harmon could. “Harvesters usually have minimal armaments, and those are mainly lasers meant for cutting stone or ice into easily loaded chunks. Still, one or more of them hitting our ships would be bad. As for taking it down, they are compartmentalized, with several outer layers of the sphere being storage bays. So doing any meaningful damage to the ship would require penetrating deep into its structure. If those bays are filled with water, for example, penetrating becomes exponentially more difficult.”

  The bridge of the Phoenix went silent as they reached their destination, and the size of the vessel in front of them hit home. The sun was setting, and the shadow cast by the harvester stretched further than Allistor could see. He couldn’t put its size into words, couldn’t find anything to compare it to.

  Meg helped him out. “It’s a damn floating egg-shaped mountain. Full of spiders. That’s it. Time we all moved to Orion. I’m not staying here with those things.” Even as she spoke, the vessel began to shift. The seams along its sides widened, and within seconds there were eight appendages unfurling from the main body and beginning to extend downward toward the lake.

  “What the actual hell is that!?” Meg was nearly screaming now, moving behind Sam and sticking her head out under his arm. The harvester now resembled a gigantic spider god floating above the water, the sunlight highlighting its matte black surface.

  Bjurstrom, who had just joined them on the bridge after organizing the raiders, added. “Yeah… no. That ain’t right. How is a giant planet-eating spider even a real thing?”

  “Planet drinking.” Gene corrected him absently, their ship having just arrived as well. “It’s here for the water.”

  “Yeah, that makes a big friggin’ difference!” Meg grumped from behind Sam.

  Grinning at Meg, Harmon said, “Allistor, if you would allow me to make contact? I have hope that we can resolve this without violence.”

  “Please.” Allistor nodded, leaning against the captain’s chair where Kira was huddled, feeling much the same as Meg about the ship in front of them.

  Harmon’s voice took on a formal tone, and he spoke loudly, the authority behind his voice unmistakable.

  “Araneaen harvester, this is Harmon of the orcanin. I am here with Allistor, sole Planetary Prince of UCP 382, also known as Earth. Please respond.”

  There was a brief delay, then another face appeared on the viewscreen. Sam turned and clamped his hand over Meg’s mouth even as she was taking in a deep breath to scream. The face was clearly insect in nature, most resembling a spider. It had multiple eyes in clusters across the upper half of its head, above a set of mandibles that bracketed a small mouth full of sharp…somethings. Allistor didn’t know what to call them. They twitched as the creature spoke.

  “Harmon, your name is known to us. Why do you seek our attention?” The voice sounded as if a dozen creatures spoke in unison. Allistor wondered if that was actually the case. Did they operate with some sort of hive mind?

  “As I’m sure you are aware, this planet is newly stabilized, and is undergoing its first wave of colonization. It seems unlikely that the araneae have secured legal rights to harvest resources so quickly.”

  “We grow.” The chorus of voices answered as the mandibles twitched. “We must harvest. We must have water and food, or the new generation of hatchlings goes feral. Many will die.” A limb moved into view and pressed something off-screen, and a moment later the spider ship began to shift again. Four of the limbs that had been extended downward now lifted to point at each of the ships hovering around it.

  “Do not interfere. We must harvest.”

  Harmon shook his head. “Please, wait. Allow us to discuss your situation. We do not wish violence between our races.”

  The araneae’s face disappeared. Harmon let out a long sigh. The harvester’s arms remained where they were, and did not fire.

  Amanda was the first to ask. “Feral hatchlings?”

  “Araneae are an intelligent race, and as I mentioned before, generally peaceful. When their offspring hatch, they have a fierce instinctive hunger. They must consume food and water sufficient to fuel a growth spurt that occurs within hours of their hatching.” Harmon paused. “If sufficient resources are available to fuel this growth, they quickly mature into normal, sane adults. However, if there is a shortage of either food or water, they will be driven to find it anywhere they can. Most commonly, the hatchlings swarm their brood mother and any other adults nearby, consuming them for their flesh and fluids. If that still doesn’t suffice, the strongest among them will begin killing and consuming their broodmates.”

  Gralen added, “And in that situation, if there is a shortage, the adults have to choose between allowing the hatchlings to run amok, or destroying them before they hatch.”

  “Sounds to me like there are too damn many of them already.” Meg tossed in her opinion. “I say let them kill the nasty little eating machines with fire before they hatch.” Most of the heads around the room nodded in agreement.

  “As I said before, even were we able to destroy this harvester without suffering losses ourselves, imagine what will happen when it drops from the sky. The lake water would inundate the land for miles around. The earth would crack and shake, and a dust cloud would blot out the sun for days, if not weeks. All of that is assuming the harvester just falls, without its engine core exploding.”

  Allistor looked from the ship to the lake below. He thought he remembered from school that Michigan’s lakes held something like a quarter of the world’s supply of fresh water. And he didn’t know the math, but it looked to him like the harvester could carry away a large portion of this lake.

  “Harmon, is it safe to assume that they don’t really need fresh water? The
y have a way to purify seawater, for example?”

  “Of course. The harvester likely has such tech built into its structure. As well as ore refining capabilities.”

  “And… what is the penalty for them, being caught poaching like this?”

  “Severe.” Harmon shook his head. “The Collective will confiscate this harvester, should it survive any conflict that may occur here. Its crew of approximately a thousand araneae will be put to death, and their planet of origin cut off, a full trade embargo and military cordon put in place until penalties and fines are resolved.”

  “Why would they risk…” Gene started to ask, but Harmon cut him off. “They are aware of the risks. And the odds against their success. But they are not thinking rationally at the moment. Their own biological imperatives are flooding their systems with chemicals that drive them to provide the needed fuel, no matter what.”

  Allistor had a couple more questions. “Let’s say we give them water. Is this enough? Or will they be back in a month for more? And how much are they planning to take?”

  Harmon looked down at his wrist device. “A harvester this size has a capacity of… approximately two hundred million cubic feet of storage, or one and one half trillion gallons. As for the sufficiency of that amount, I don’t think it matters. Even should you allow them to take the water they need and go, you don’t have the authority to approve the harvest. The Collective will punish them for the theft, and they will not be returning.”

  Gene coughed, raising his hand, then blushing. “Uh, I just did a little quick math. One and a half trillion gallons from the Earth’s oceans isn’t a big loss. Something like one millionth of one percent of the existing volume. Sixty percent of the planet is covered by quintillions of gallons of ocean water.

  Allistor looked at Harmon. “I know I don’t have the authority to authorize a harvest. But what kind of System-imposed penalties would I face if I just don’t prevent it, and convince them to take water from the ocean, instead?”

  Harmon thought it over, as did Gralen. “None that I’m aware of from the System. There will be factions who won’t agree with your actions. Mainly those who don’t like or approve of the araneae.” Harmon concluded.

  Gralen added, “Taking on a harvester with the ships we have would almost certainly result in losses. A wise leader would avoid that if possible. And since you are a mere prince…” The wolverinekin grinned, exposing sharp teeth. “It is not your responsibility to police the poachers. The Collective has been notified, so your obligations are fulfilled.”

  Allistor took a seat at a nearby station. He was feeling each second that ticked by as he considered options. Finally, he made a decision.

  “Let’s offer them this. We will agree not to attack, if they allow us to escort their ship out into the middle of the Pacific and harvest there. They will sink the ship gently into the water, so as not to cause any tsunamis, and raise it just as gently when they’re done. In return, I ask that we agree to discuss a trade agreement, or possibly even an alliance, at some future date.”

  Harmon chuckled. “Very good, Prince Allistor. I will attempt to make such arrangements.” A moment later the spider face reappeared on the screen. It seemed even more agitated than before. Harmon began. “The honorable Planetary Prince Allistor has extended the hand of friendship to the araneae, and granted you a boon. If you will agree…”

  Harmon spent the next few minutes outlining a much more complicated set of conditions than Allistor had proposed, using extremely formal and flowery language. Allistor was impressed, both by the presentation and the terms Harmon had thought to include that Allistor hadn’t. One of which being that none of their race attempt to harvest from Earth again, legal or otherwise.

  “It is agreed.” The multi-tonal voice answered within seconds of Harmon finishing his spiel. “We must go now. Our lives are forfeit, but we must return with the harvest before Collective forces intervene.”

  “Then we have a deal. Kira, please take us out somewhere in the south Pacific.” Allistor’s interface flooded with notifications, and without reading them individually, he glanced long enough to see that most of them were fame points, rather than infamy.

  “Roger that, boss.” Kira spun the ship southwestward, and they were off. All four of his ships surrounded the massive harvester as they made haste across the western half of the continent and out over the water. Kira picked a spot as far from any islands as she could find, and hovered.

  The harvester loomed nearby, its mass blocking out the stars across a wide area of sky. They all watched as it lowered itself surprisingly gently until it hovered a few dozen feet above the water’s surface. Once again the spider arms extended downward, poking maybe a hundred feet down into the water, and began pumping. Each leg created a ripple that, for their immense size, was relatively minor. Ten foot waves pushed outward, losing momentum and size as they encountered other waves.

  While they waited for the harvester to fill its storage compartments, the spider creature reappeared on the main screen. “We are grateful, honorable Prince.” The creature seemed calmer now that it was achieving its goal. “Your kindness will not be forgotten. Our High Queen Xeria extends her appreciation, and an invitation to visit our world of origin.”

  On a side screen, Harmon was discretely nodding his head. Allistor smiled at the spider, his lips remaining closed, just in case showing teeth was an offense of some kind. “I am honored to accept the invitation.”

  The araneae nodded its head. “Two days hence. We are sending coordinates. We regret we shall be unable to greet you in person. The Collective’s price must be paid. It has been an honor for us to have met you, noble one. May you rule long and wisely.” The screen went dark before Allistor could reply.

  Amanda moved to sit in Allistor’s lap. Looking up at Harmon’s face on the screen, she asked, “Will the penalty really demand the deaths of a thousand crew members?”

  Harmon nodded. “The Collective enforces strict laws when it comes to planetary resources, new acquisitions, and colonization. It demands stiff penalties, out of necessity. If it did not, there would be chaos throughout the galaxies. Weaker races like your own, no offense, would be wiped out without mercy, and the strongest factions would fight endless wars that escalated beyond reason. Planets destroyed, countless lives and resources wasted.” He looked from Amanda to Allistor, then back again. “Though Lady Meg will not be happy to hear it, this harvest of water and the biomatter that it contains, will save the lives of likely tens of millions of hatchlings.”

  Meg stayed silent, but gave Harmon the stink-eye.

  A few minutes later, the massive legs, each of which was thicker and taller than the Invictus tower, retracted gently from the water and back into position within the sphere. The crew wasted no time making their getaway, the ship rising quickly out of the atmosphere and jumping away.

  Amanda got to her feet. “Guess we should head home. Two days to prepare to meet the queen of an entire race of beings. What does one wear to meet a spider queen?”

  Chapter 16

  After a short night’s sleep, Allistor shared breakfast on the roof with William, Amanda, Fuzzy, Addy, and Sydney. Their little adoptive family ate slowly, sharing their activities from the previous day. All three kids wanted to go with Allistor and Amanda to meet the spider people, but Allistor felt uneasy about it.

  They’d had some further discussion with Harmon on the way back from their Pacific adventure, and it seemed the visit would be safe enough. Especially since the queen felt friendly toward them. The humans would be taking the Phoenix to the araneaen homeworld, which was nearer to the twin suns of their system than Earth. He surmised that Earth’s recent relocation within their solar system was the reason it was targeted. Normally they would have had to travel farther, raiding other systems within the galaxy.

  Promising the kids he’d think about them tagging along, he left the table and went to fire up the forge. Since taking up crafting, Allistor found he liked to pound on
metal while he was thinking. Today, rather than standing behind Allistor trying to brain him with a stick, William headed to the Silo to help Daniel with the dragons. Amanda had confirmed that they seemed to have hit a growth spurt, and might hatch within the week. William was determined to be there when it happened.

  Allistor really wanted to be there, too.

  He decided to experiment with one of the shadow steel spears. Taking it from his inventory, he slid the pointy end into the furnace and waited for it to heat up, observing the unusual metal as it changed colors. When it was a bright, glowing, reddish gold hue that suggested it was ready to be shaped, he used his tongs to pull it from the forge and set the heated point on the anvil. Taking his hammer in hand, he gave a few experimental swings. The impacts sounded dull compared to normal steel, and he saw no difference in the shape. Swinging harder than he would for normal steel, he struck near the sharpened point, intending to bend it.

  Still there was no change.

  “This is some hard stuff.” He mumbled to himself. With his Blacksmithing skill still pretty low, he wasn’t aware of any methods or tricks that might help him shape this metal. So he let it cool on the anvil, putting away his tools and deciding to wait until he had a chance to consult more with Longbeard and Daigath.

  Thinking about Daigath, he headed toward the elevator. He wanted to see about additional class training. On the way down, he pulled up his interface and the Citadel tab. There were two listed, the one in Cheyenne and Ramon’s on Governor’s Island. So Helen and Longbeard were still looking for a good spot in YellowStone.

  Stopping in the kitchen, and as usual, finding Fuzzy there trying to mooch treats, he asked Meg for some pastries to take to the ancient elf. She happily handed him a dozen almond pastries in a paper bag, saying, “I like him. He doesn’t take me to places filled with giant spiders.”

  Allistor took the bag, grinning. “There’s still time to change your mind and come with us. We’re not leaving till morning.”

 

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