Devourer

CHAPTER 7 Humanity’s First and Last Space War

The acceleration of the Moon away from Earth had begun.

The Moon was hanging in the sky of Earth’s day side when the first bombs were detonated. The flash of every explosion briefly lit up the Moon in the blue sky, giving it the appearance of a giant silver eye frantically blinking in the heavens. When night fell on Earth, the one-sided flashes of the Moon still shone the light of human handiwork to the surface 25,000 miles below. A pale silver trail following the Moon’s back side was now visible. It was composed of the rocks blasted into space from the Moon’s surface. Cameras installed on the propulsion side of the Moon showed strata of rock being blasted into space like billowing floodwaters. The waves of rock quickly faded smaller in the distance, becoming thin strands trailing the Moon. Turning toward the Earth’s other side, the Moon circumscribed an accelerating orbit.

Humanity’s attention, however, was now squarely focused on the great and terrible ring that had appeared in the sky: The Devourer’s approach loomed over the Earth. The enormous tides its gravity evoked had already destroyed Earth’s coastal cities.

The Devourer’s aft engines flashed in a circle of blue light as it engaged in final orbital adjustments as it approached. It eventually perfectly matched the Earth’s orbit around the Sun, while at the same time aligned its axis of rotation with Earth’s. Having completed these adjustments, it ever so slowly began to move toward the Earth, ready to surround the planet with its huge ring body.

The Moon’s acceleration continued for two months. In this time a bomb had exploded within its surface every two or three seconds, resulting in an almost incomprehensible total of 2.5 million nuclear explosions. As it entered into its second orbit around the Earth, the Moon’s acceleration had forced its once circular orbit into a distinctly elliptical shape. As the Moon moved to the far end of this ellipse, Fangs and the Marshal arrived on its forward-facing side, away from the exploding bombs. The Marshal had expressly invited the alien emissary for this occasion.

As they stood on the lunar plain surrounded by craters, they felt the tremors from the other side shake deep beneath their feet. It almost seemed as if they could sense the powerful heartbeat of Earth’s satellite. In the pitch-black sky beyond, the Devourer’s giant ring dazzled with its brilliant light, its huge shape consuming half the sky.

“Excellent, Marshal-worm, most excellent indeed!” Fangs applauded, his voice full of sincere praise. “But,” he continued, “you should hurry. You only have one more orbit to accelerate. The Devourer Empire is not accustomed to waiting for others. And I have another question: The cities you built below the surface a decade ago are still empty. When will their inhabitants arrive? How can your spaceships transport one-hundred thousand here from Earth in only one month?”

“We will bring no one here,” the marshal calmly replied. “We will be the last humans to stand on the Moon.”

Hearing this, Fangs twisted his body in surprise. The Marshal had said ‘We’, meaning the 5,000 officers and soldiers of Earth’s space force. They formed a perfect phalanx on the crater-covered lunar plain. At the front of the phalanx a soldier brandished a blue flag.

“Look, this is our planet’s banner. We declare war upon the Devourer Empire!” the Marshal announced defiantly.

Fangs stood dumbfounded, more confused than surprised. Immediately his body began to reel as he was thrown onto his back as the Moon’s gravity suddenly surged. Fangs was knocked prone to lunar ground, stunned beyond any thought of movement. All around him lunar dust kicked up by his massive fall slowly began to drift to the ground.

But the dust was quickly thrown up again, stirred by massive shock waves reverberating from the other side of the Moon. These shocks soon left the entire plain covered in a layer of white dust.

Fangs realized the frequency of nuclear explosions on the other side of the Moon had abruptly increased several times over. Judging by the sharp increase of gravity, he could infer that the Moon’s acceleration must have increased several times as well. Rolling over, he retrieved a large hand-held computer from a pocket in the front of his spacesuit. On it he brought up the Moon’s current orbital trajectory. Immediately he realized that this tremendous increase of acceleration would take the Moon out of orbit. The Moon would break free of Earth’s gravity and shoot off into space. A flashing red line of dots showed its predicted course.

It was on collision course with the Devourer.

Discarding his computer without a second thought, Fangs slowly raised himself to his feet. Straining his neck against the explosive increase in gravity, he peered through the billowing clouds of lunar dust. Standing in front of him was Earth’s army, still upright, stalwart like standing stones.

“A century of conspiracy and deceit,” Fangs mumbled under his breath.

The Marshal just nodded in agreement. “You now realize that it is too late,” he pointed out gravely.

Fangs spoke after a long sigh. “I should have realized that the humans of Earth were a completely different breed from the Eridanians. Life on their world had evolved symbiotically, free of natural selection and of the struggle for survival. They did not even know what war was.” He halted, digesting what had happened. “We let that guide our assessment of Earth’s people. But you, you have ceaselessly butchered one another from the day that you climbed down from the trees. How should you be easily conquered? I…,” Again he paused. “It was an unforgivable dereliction of duty!”

When the Marshal spoke, his steady, level tone explained further what Fangs was realizing. “The Eridanians brought us vast quantities of vital information. The information included the limits of the Devourer’s ability to accelerate. It is this information that formed the basis of our battle plan. As we detonate the bombs that change the Moon’s trajectory, its maneuvering acceleration will come to exceed the Devourer’s acceleration limit three-fold. In other words,” he said, “it will be thrice as agile as the Devourer. There is no way that you can avoid the coming collision.”

“Actually, we were not completely off-guard,” Fangs said. “When the Earth began producing large quantities of nuclear bombs we began to constantly monitor their whereabouts. We made sure that they were installed deep within the Moon, but we did not think…” Fangs continued, but it was musing to himself than replying.

Behind his visor the Marshal smiled faintly. “We aren’t so stupid as to directly attack the Devourer with nuclear bombs,” he said. “We know that the Devourer Empire has been steeled by hundreds of battles. Earth’s simple and crude missiles would certainly have one and all been intercepted and destroyed. But you cannot intercept something as large as the Moon. Perhaps the Devourer, with its immense power, could have eventually broken or diverted the Moon, but it is far too close for that now. You are out of time.”

Fangs snarled. “Crafty worms. Treacherous worms, vicious worms.” He shook his head, bristling. “The Devourer Empire is an honest civilization. We put all things out in the open, yet we have been cheated by the deceitful treachery of the Earth-worms.” He gnashed his huge teeth as he finished speaking, his fury almost goading him to lock his giant claws around the Marshal. The soldiers and their rifles aiming right at him, however, stayed his talons. Fangs had not forgotten that his body, too, was but flesh and blood. One burst of bullets would end him.

With his eyes firmly fixed on Fangs, the Marshal stated, “We will leave and you, too, should make your way off the Moon, otherwise you will surely be killed by the Devourer Empire’s nuclear weapons.”

The Marshal was very right. Just as Fangs and the human space forces left the Moon’s surface, the interceptor missiles of the Devourer struck. Both sides of the Moon now flashed with brilliant light. The forward facing side of the Moon, too, exploded as huge waves of rocks were blasted into space. All around the Moon, lunar matter was violently scattered in all imaginable directions. Seen from the Earth, the Moon, on its collision course with the Devourer, looked like a warrior, wild hair ablaze with rage. There was no force that could have stopped it now! Wherever on Earth this spectacle was visible, seas of people erupted into feverish cheers.

The Devourer’s interception action did not continue for long and soon ceased. It realized that it had been completely meaningless. In the moments in which the Moon would close the short distance between them, there was no way to divert its course or to destroy it.

The explosions of the Moon’s nuclear propulsion had also ceased. It was now fast enough and Earth’s defenders wanted to preserve enough nuclear bombs to carry out any last minute maneuvers. All was silent.

In the cold quiet of space, the Devourer and Earth’s satellite floated toward each other in complete tranquility. The distance between the two rapidly decreased. As it dwindled to 30,000 miles, the control ship of Earth’s Supreme Command could already see the Moon overlapping the giant ring of the Devourer. From there it looked like a ball bearing in a track.

Up to this point the Devourer had not made any changes to its trajectory. It was easy to understand why: The Moon could have easily matched any premature orbital maneuver. Any meaningful evasive action would have to be taken in the final moments before the Moon’s impact. The two cosmic giants were almost like ancient knights in a joust. They were charging toward one another, galloping across the distance separating them, but the victor would only be decided in the blink-of-an-eye before they made contact.

Two great civilizations of the Milky Way held their breath in rapt anticipation, awaiting that final moment.

At 22,000 miles, both sides began their maneuvers. The Devourer’s engines were first to flare, shooting blue flames more than 5,000 miles out into space. It began its evasion. On the Moon, nuclear bombs were once again ignited, ferociously detonating with unprecedented intensity and frequency. It carried out its adjustments, matching its course to ensure a collision. Its arcing tail of debris clearly described its change of direction. The blue light of the Devourer’s 5,000 mile flames merged with the silver flashes of the Moon’s nuclear blasts; it was the most magnificent vista ever to grace the solar system.

Both sides maneuvered like this for three hours. The distance between them had already shrunk to 3,000 miles when the computer displays showed what no one in the control ship dared believe: The Devourer was changing course with an acceleration speed four times greater than the limit the Eridanians had claimed possible!

All this time they had unreservedly believed in this limit. They had made it the foundation of Earth’s victory. Now, the nuclear bombs remaining on the Moon no longer had the capacity to make the necessary adjustments to give chase. Calculations showed that in three short hours, even if they did all they could, the Moon would brush pass the Devourer, falling short by 250 miles.

One last burst of dizzying flashes washed over the control ship, exhausting all of the Earth’s nuclear bombs. At almost exactly the same moment, the Devourer’s engines fell silent. In a deathly quiet the laws of inertia told the final verses of this magnificent epic: The Moon scraped past the Devourer’s side, barely missing. Its velocity was so high that the Devourer’s gravity could not catch it, only twisting its trajectory as it zoomed past. After the Moon had passed the Devourer, it silently sped away from the Sun.

On the control ship the Supreme Command, too, fell into a deathly silence. Minutes passed.

“The Eridanians have betrayed us,” a commander finally whispered in shock.

“The crystal was probably just a trap set by the Devourer Empire!” a staff officer shouted.

In an instant the Supreme Command fell into utter chaos. All but one began to scream and shout, some to vent their utter despair, others to conceal it. All were on the verge of hysteria. A few of the non-military personnel wept; others tore the hair from their heads. Spirits stood teetering on the verge of the abyss, ready to fall forever.

Only the Marshal remained serene, standing quietly in front of a large screen. He slowly turned and with one simple question calmed the chaos. “I would ask all of you to pay attention to one detail: Why did the Devourer cut its engine?”

Pandemonium was immediately replaced by deep thought. Indeed, after the Moon had used its last nuclear bomb; the enemy had no reason to shut down its engine. They had no way of knowing whether or not there were any bombs left on the Moon. Furthermore, there was the danger of the Devourer’s gravity catching the Moon. Had the Devourer continued to accelerate, it could have easily extended the distance to the Moon’s trajectory. It could have – should have – made it farther than those tiny, barely adequate 250 miles.

“Give me a close up of the Devourer’s outer hull,” the Marshal commanded.

A holographic image was displayed on the screen. It was a picture being transmitted by a miniature, high-speed reconnaissance probe flying 300 miles above the Devourer’s surface. The splendidly illuminated surface of the Devourer came into clear view. In awe they beheld the massive steel mountains and canyons of its giant ring body slowly turn past their view. A long black seam caught the Marshal’s attention. In the past century, he had become very familiar with every detail of the Devourer’s surface, but he was absolutely certain that that gap had not existed before. Quickly others, too, noticed it.

“What is that? Is it…. a crack?” someone asked.

“It is. A crack. A three thousand mile-long crack,” the Marshal said, nodding. “The Eridanians did not betray us. The data in the crystal was accurate. The acceleration limit is real, but as the Moon approached, the despairing Devourer decided to damn the consequences and to exceed it by four-fold, desperate to avoid the collision. This, however, had consequences: The Devourer has cracked.”

Then they found more cracks.

“Look, what’s going on now?” someone shouted as its rotation brought another part of Devourer’s surface into view. A dazzling bright light began glowing on the edge of its metal continent as if dawn were creeping over its vast horizon.

“The rotational engine!” an officer called out.

“Indeed. It is the rarely used equatorial rotational engine!” the Marshal explained. “It is firing at full power, trying to stop the Devourer’s rotation!”

“Marshal, you were spot on and this proves it!”

“We must act now and use all available means to gather detailed data so that we can run a simulation!” the Marshal commanded. Even as he spoke, the entire Supreme Command was already executing the task.

In the past century a mathematical model had been developed that precisely described the Devourer’s physical structure. The required data was gathered and it ran very efficiently, and so the results were quickly produced: It would take nearly 40 hours for the rotational engine to reduce the Devourer’s rotation to a speed at which it could avoid destruction. Yet, in only 18 hours the centrifugal forces would completely break it to pieces.

A cheer rose among the Supreme Command. The big screen shone with the holographic image of the Devourer’s coming demise: The process of the break up would be very slow, almost like a dream. Against the pitch-black of space, this giant world would disperse like milk foam floating on coffee, its edges gradually breaking off, only to be swallowed by darkness beyond. It looked like the Devourer was melting into space. Only the occasional flash of an explosion now revealed its disintegrating form.

The Marshal did not join the others as they watched this soul-soothing display of destruction. He stood apart from the group, focused at another screen, carefully observing the real Devourer. His face betrayed no trace of triumph. As calm returned to the bridge, the others began to take notice of him. One after the other they joined him at the screen. There they quickly discovered that the blue light at the Devourer’s aft had reappeared.

The Devourer had restarted its engine.

Given the critical state the ring structure was already in, this seemed like an utterly unfathomable mistake. Any acceleration, no matter how minute, could cause a catastrophic breakup. But it was the Devourer’s trajectory that truly baffled the onlookers: It was ever so slowly retracing its steps, returning to the position it had held before its evasive maneuvers. It was carefully reestablishing its synchronous orbit and re-aligning its axis of rotation with Earth’s.

“What? Does it still want to devour the Earth?” an officer exclaimed, both shocked and confused.

His question provoked a few scattered laughs. All laughter, however, soon fell silent as the others became aware of the look on the Marshal’s face. He was no longer looking at the screen. His eyes were closed. His face was blank and drained of all color. In the past hundred years, the officers and personnel who had made fending off the Devourer a pillar of their soul had become very familiar with the Marshal’s countenance. They had never seen him like this. A calm fell over the gathered Supreme Command as they turned back to the screen. Finally they understood the gravity of the situation.

There was a way out for the Devourer.

The Devourer’s flight toward the Earth had begun. It had already matched the Earth in both orbital speed and rotation as it approached the planet’s South Pole.

If it took too long, the Devourer’s own centrifugal forces would tear it apart; if it went too fast, the power of its propulsion would rip it to pieces. The Devourer’s survival was hanging on a thin thread. It had to hold to a perfect balance between timing and speed.

Before the Earth’s South Pole was enveloped by the Devourer’s giant ring, the Supreme Command could see the shape of the frozen continent change rapidly. Antarctica was shrinking, like butter in a hot frying pan. The world’s oceans were being pulled toward the South Pole by the immense gravity of the Devourer and now the Earth’s white tip was being swallowed by their billowing waters.

As this happened, the Devourer, too, was changing. Many new cracks began to cover its body, and all of them were growing longer and wider. The first few tears were now no longer black seams, but gaping chasms glowing with crimson light. They could easily have been mistaken for thousands of miles-long portals to Hell.

In the midst of all this destruction, a few fine white strands rose from the ring’s massive body. Then, more and more of these filaments emerged, flowing from every part of the Devourer’s body. It almost looked like the huge ship had sprouted a sparse head of white hair. In fact, they were the engine trails of ships being launched from the great ring. The Devourers were fleeing their doomed world.

Half of the Earth had already been encircled by the Devourer when things took a turn for the worse: The Earth’s gravity was acting almost like the invisible spokes of a cosmic wheel, bearing the disintegrating Devourer. No new cracks were appearing on its surface and the already open rips had ceased growing. Forty hours later, the Earth had been completely engulfed by the Devourer. The effect of the planet’s gravity was stronger here and the cracks on the Devourer’s surface were beginning to close. Another five hours later, they had completely closed.

In the control ship, all the screens of the Supreme Command had gone black and even the lights went dark. The only remaining source of illumination was the deathly pale rays of the Sun piercing through the portholes. In order to generate artificial gravity, the mid-section of the ship was still slowly rotating. As it did, the Sun rose and fell, porthole to porthole. Light and shadow wandered, as if it were replaying humanity’s forever bygone days and nights.

“Thank you for a century of dutiful service,” the Marshal said. “Thank you all.” He saluted the Supreme Command. Under the gaze of the officers and personnel, he calmly folded up his uniform. The others followed his example.

Humanity had been defeated. The defenders of Earth had done their utmost to discharge their duties and as soldiers they had still done their duty gloriously. In spirit, they all accepted their unseen medals with clear conscience. They were entitled to enjoy this moment.