Storming Heaven

Chapter Thirty-Eight

“I am not interested in recriminations,” Brent said, staring at the small council that had assembled — in person or via telecommunications — in his office. “I am interested in knowing just what went wrong.”

He looked around the group, from person to person. “I have a dozen reports saying that the ship — the captured ship — was dead. I have a hundred scientists who still cannot believe a word of the report that you filed” — he glowered at Captain Mikkel Ellertson, who lowered his eyes and stared at the desk — “and believe that we somehow decided, for reasons they cannot articulate, to keep it for ourselves. I confess that I would probably wonder the same myself. After all, based on everything we knew about the Killers, we knew that it was dead.”

“Based on everything we knew about the Killers, we had good cause to believe that it was dead,” Paula Handley said, calmly. She had loudly protested being dragged away from Shiva to attend the meeting, but Brent had known that she was in no position to refuse. The Technical Faction hadn’t quite decided if she should be rewarded, suspected or expelled… and as long as she didn’t know where she stood, it would be unwise of her to annoy other factions. “There were, clearly, things we did not know about the Killers.”

“Really,” Brent said. His scowl owed nothing to facial manipulation. “Your own reports suggested that there was something… still alive in there. Do you believe that you were wrong when you were clearly right?”

“In hindsight, I was right,” Paula said. Her mouth tightened noticeably. “I conducted the first survey of the hijacked ship during its passage to Star’s End and its subsequent placement on a free orbit around the star. I reported at the time that the ship had powered down to the lowest recorded levels of any known Killer starship and was no longer attempting self-repair, communication or anything, apart from keeping the black hole under control. The loss of the guiding mind had, I believed, disabled the ship permanently and prevented it from doing anything about its situation. I concluded that the fact that no other Killer starship had come to reclaim the missing ship proved that it wasn’t communicating… in short, that it was dead.

“And yet, while I was alone on the vessel, I sensed… a kind of free-floating awareness, a presence, surrounding me. I was unable to define it in terms that could be put into a report. It was like hearing whispers so quietly that I couldn’t even be sure that they were there, let alone understand their content. My supervisors in the Technical Faction told me that I wasn’t alone in having such feelings — other researchers, boarding abandoned human starships, had similar experiences. It was dismissed as nothing, but nerves and night terrors.”

She shook her head. “I am unable to account for its sudden awakening,” she concluded. “It is possible that the Killer somehow rebuilt itself inside the craft’s biomechanical interface, or that some kind of emergency program was tripped, but we have no way of knowing for sure. By the time emergency alarms started to sound, the craft was already halfway towards escape.”

“And it swallowed up the Leader of the Spacer faction, as well as seven hundred and fifty scientists and researchers from all over the Community,” Brent snapped. He turned his gaze to another hologram, floating in the centre of the room. “Do you believe that that was intentional, or merely a coincidence?”

Chiyo99 seemed to flinch slightly under his gaze. As a mortal Lieutenant, she would never have seen an Admiral, unless she was posted to one of the command ships or support bases. As a personality in the MassMind, she was no longer part of the Defence Force, yet she had been willing to remain attached to him as long as she was needed. Her eyes held a vaguely haunted look; the MassMind, at her request, had strip-mined her entire mind, just to confirm her story. Brent shuddered every time he thought about it; Chiyo99 might have been a duplicate of a duplicate of a woman whose body had probably been recycled or fed into a black hole, but she was still a person. No one deserved to be violated like that, willingly or otherwise.

“I do not believe that the Killer I knew, the one I spied upon, was aware of our existence in more than vague terms,” she said, finally. “It — he, perhaps — showed no awareness of individual humans, or even anything other that a vague interest. I doubt that they could tell the difference between a Representative and a… well, a Technical Faction Researcher. They may even be unaware that they picked up a few hundred prisoners. The prisoners may even be able to disable the starship again before it gets too far…”

“It could be halfway across the galaxy by now,” Brent growled. That was wishful thinking at best. Disabling the starship the first time had been sheer luck and, the reports had made quite clear, the Killers had already begun to improve their internal defences. The prisoners would probably be hunted down and killed. “Do they stand a chance?”

His gaze fell on Ellertson, who shook his head. “Apart from the Spacer and a handful of others, the researchers were generally wearing civilian-grade life-support gear, not military-grade systems. They have roughly four days before they run out of atmosphere, assuming that the systems are still in working order. The Killers drained power, however, from every starship on the hull, so they may have done the same to the researchers. If that is the case, sir, they’re dead — particularly the Spacer. He could not survive without power in his systems.”

“Maybe not,” Paula said, thoughtfully. “I believe that their power-draining system was really part of their hull; they were diverting power from every non-essential system to the drives, weapons and wormhole generator. The induction field might not have been calibrated to register the presence of outside starships clinging on like limpets to the hull.”

“And, in any case, it made a hell of a weapon,” Ellertson added. “The scientists didn’t stand a chance.”

“It is possible that it was the presence of the Spacer who triggered the whole incident,” Paula added. Brent stared at her in surprise. The Killers never paid attention to individual humans. “The Spacers are humans and technology in fusion; the Killer starships are a perfect fusion between Killer biological cells and their spacecraft. They may have been fascinated — rather like us watching some of the creatures under the icy moon of Jupiter developing tools — and snatched the Spacer for further study.”

“Perhaps,” Chiyo99 agreed. “They did snatch me, after all.”

Brent sat back in his chair and pulled up a chart. A handful of wrecked Killer starships had been captured in various states and all had been moved to different locations. The most useful one, captured at Shiva, was largely intact, apart from the damage inflicted by the implosion bolts and subsequent pounding. The Killer was dead, it seemed, yet was that actually true?

He outlined his fears slowly. “There are, as you know, other sites examining Killer technology,” he said. “Are we going to face the same problem again, perhaps more than once? The researchers have enough problems without worrying if their subject is going to come to life and suddenly start to kill them.”

“Maybe,” Paula said. She frowned, his face becoming distracted as she scanned the reports from the other sites. “I believe that the ship captured at Shiva has lost power completely, or at least that’s what the reports say, but I cannot advise you to ignore the possible danger. I would suggest that you ordered the researchers to probe the starship’s neural net and try and determine if power is still trickling through parts of the system.”

“You could also advise them to take antimatter bombs along with them,” Ellertson added. “They would need time to generate an absorbing field to prevent the bomb from detonating…”

“They don’t prevent the bomb from detonating,” Paula said, pedantically. “They absorb the power before it can do any damage.”

“Then why don’t they just absorb everything we throw at them?” Ellertson asked. “It makes no sense.”

“It makes perfect sense,” Paula countered. “They couldn’t absorb everything or they’d cripple themselves and render the hull useless. They probably have a power threshold; anything beyond a certain level gets drained into the power reserves, or just dropped into a black hole.”

She turned to face Brent. “I can give you no other advice,” she said, shortly. “If you don’t mind, I have work to do.”

Brent smiled, rather dryly. “Very well,” he said. “I’ll give you a call if I need further advice or assistance.”

Her hologram blinked out of existence. “Captain Ellertson,” Brent said, “you are to complete the rescue and recovery missions, and then prepare to wrap up the Star’s End operation completely. There’s no point in keeping the station in existence now the Killers know about it — or they will when our lost child returns home — and there’s nothing there worth fighting for. Let them devastate empty asteroids if they must.”

“Yes, sir,” Ellertson said.

“Good,” Brent said. “Once your task is complete, report to Admiral Hawser. There will be other missions for your attack wing to perform. Dismissed.”

Brent’s image vanished as well, leaving Brent staring at Chiyo99. “Do you believe that the Spacer did cause the ship to come alive?”

“I did not believe it the first time,” Chiyo99 pointed out. “I have heard nothing to change my opinion. Have you considered the other matter?”

Brent winced, rubbing his eyes and wishing for sleep. It had been hours before someone had compared the list of Community settlements to Killer colonies and realised that one of the Killer settlements was within the Solar System, deep within Saturn’s gaseous atmosphere. There might be smaller settlements on Jupiter, Uranus or even Neptune, although no one was quite sure why the Killers chose some gas giants and ignored others. The best anyone had been able to suggest was that perhaps they didn’t like the weather. Jupiter did have one of the largest storm formations in the galaxy — the Great Red Spot.

It reminded him of how different life had to be for the Killers, even before Chiyo99 had confirmed many of their suspicions. The Killers might have settled Saturn before humanity learned to make fire — it would be too much a coincidence if it was their homeworld, although no one had been able to turn up a likely candidate and it was possible that even the Killers no longer knew — and, in their timeless world, had simply never sent starships to the system before they destroyed Earth. Humanity might well have missed a starship arriving in the system until telescopes were invented; hell, Galileo and his contemporaries might have seen a Killer starship, and then merely misidentified it. Humanity might even have missed them until they were establishing settlements on Saturn’s moons and started thinking about mining Jupiter and Saturn for fuel. It wasn’t that long, not on a galactic scale.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. The last thing he wanted to do was destroy the Sol System. Earth might be a wreck, but it was humanity’s own homeworld and special to the entire race. One day, it might even be possible to terraform it and return to the planet. “I think that that’s something that will have to be discussed by the War Council.”

He turned away from her, thinking hard. They could use another fission weapon on Saturn, but that would devastate the moons and the rings, part of humanity’s heritage. It was more important to think about the millions of humans who still lived in the Sol System, the humans who would resent being ordered out, or watching as their star system was devastated. Yet, he knew, if the war continued, they would have to destroy entire star systems in order to save them… and if they couldn’t evacuate the population first, they would die in fire.

Who needs the Killers? He thought, grimly. We can slaughter ourselves in job lots without any help from the bastards.

“Sir?” Chiyo99 asked. “What are you…?”

The sound of the alarm cut her off. “Admiral, we have four wormholes opening within fifty thousand kilometres,” Captain Waianae’s voice said. “You have to see this.”

Brent grabbed his jacket and raced to the command centre, leaving Chiyo99 behind. She would have to join the other Defence Force personalities in preparing to abandon the asteroid, or take her chances by remaining in the asteroid’s processors, where she might die if the Killers turned their weapons on Sparta. Brent had been preparing for their return after they buzzed Sparta weeks ago — it felt like years — but now that he was confronted by their return, he felt cold. Sparta was armed to the teeth, yet the Killers were terrifyingly powerful. The battle might not end well.

“Report,” he barked, as he strode into the command centre. It was buried within the heart of the asteroid, protected by a kilometre of rocky cover, yet it wouldn’t stand up to the Killer weapons for more than a few seconds. He took his command chair and stared up at the display. “What’s happening out there?”

“Four Killer starships, very close to us,” Captain Waianae said, “but they’re doing nothing. They’re just staring at us.”

Brent pulled up the main display and nodded slowly. Captain Waianae was right. The Killers had returned in force; four of their starships sat just outside weapons range, dominating the entire star system by their sheer presence. The Defence Force starships were scrambling to intercept, but even the ten attack wings that he had reserved for the defence of Sparta were grossly outmatched. The destroyers would hurt their opponents badly, perhaps even wipe them out if they rammed the Killer ships, but the asteroid system would still be devastated.

“Attempt to hail them,” he ordered, finally. Perhaps they wanted to talk. They had eyeballed Sparta before without opening hostilities. “Inform me the moment you get any response.”

He turned to the communications officer without waiting for a reply. “Send a general warning out to the other command bases,” he continued. “Inform Admiral Hawser that he may find himself promoted to Supreme Commander” — inheriting a dead man’s shoes, part of his mind whispered — “and that he should start considering contingency plans to meet that eventuality.”

“Yes, sir,” the communications officer said. He didn’t show any signs of fear, but Brent could hear it in his voice. It was hard to blame him. If the Killers bulled right at the human asteroid settlement, they’d punch right through the defences and wreck havoc. “He’s responding and wishes you good luck.”

Brent snorted. “And inform the evacuation coordinator that I want everyone not in Category A to start moving off the asteroid now,” he said, silently thanking God that he’d ordered everyone non-essential off the station after the Killers had buzzed past the first time. “We can try and prevent a massacre.”

“There is no response from the Killers,” Captain Waianae reported, as Brent turned back to her. “They’re making no attempt to communicate, even in their own internal RF signalling frequencies. They’re just… watching us.”

Brent glanced up towards the ceiling and saw others doing the same. They wouldn’t even be aware of the Killer starships without their sensors, but now they knew that they were there, they seemed to feel them at the back of their necks. The tension in the compartment was rising, not helped by several Category B personnel who insisted in remaining behind and facing possible death along with the remainder of the Category A personnel. Most of the duty officers were quietly preparing to upload copies of their personalities to the MassMind, just in case they died in battle. Brent remembered what Chiyo99 had gone through and shivered. After watching what she had become, he would think long and hard before grasping the immortality the MassMind offered humanity.

He was vaguely aware of new personalities peering out through the sensors; the War Council, come to watch what happened when the Killers went up against humanity’s foremost military base. He didn’t attempt to talk to them. There was nothing that they could do to help, but they could distract him at a crucial moment. He considered ordering the starships to attack, to attempt to drive the Killers away before they carried out another slaughter, but that would merely have started the fighting. What, he found himself wondering, was so special about the Sparta System that the Killers were reluctant to pick a fight there? There was no gas giant in the system, no possible cause of Killer hesitation, apart from the human ships. Could it be that the Killers had finally learned fear of humanity?

Chiyo99 was still peering through the sensors herself, rather than retreating back into the MassMind. “Tell me something,” Brent subvocalised. “Is there anything, anything at all, in the data you obtained about this system? Is there anything here that they couldn’t just take?”

“No, sir,” Chiyo99 said. Her voice darkened. “I didn’t get a complete copy of their database, so it is possible that there’s something here to interest them, but I can’t think what it could be. There’s nothing here, but a lot of asteroids — and Sparta.”

“And Sparta,” Brent repeated. Perhaps the Killers actually had learned fear after all. Humans had surveyed the system carefully when looking for a place to locate a military base and hadn’t found anything other than asteroids. “Perhaps…”

“New gravity surges,” Captain Waianae said, as alarms echoed through the command centre. “They’re opening new wormholes.”

“Where?” Brent demanded. The Killers had been waiting for reinforcements. “Where are they coming in…?”

“Here,” Captain Waianae snapped. There was an undertone of panic in her voice as new red icons flashed into existence on the display. “They’re coming in right on top of us!”