Roboteer (16 page)

‘What is this?’ he asked the female. ‘What’s going on?’ He waved his front two limb-pairs to illustrate.

‘Listen to me, Will, if you want to avoid the destruction of your species,’ the female said.

For a moment, Will could think of nothing to say. He peered at her through four different eyes.
Destruction of my species?
His human instinct was to frown, but this body couldn’t do that. Instead, he secreted the Odour of Perplexity.

‘What are you talking about?’

Those were very high stakes to open a conversation with – the kind that made you immediately suspicious.

‘Your species has been granted access to a technology you refer to as the suntap. This gift was initially granted with the purpose of destroying you.’

Will didn’t want to accept that. Nevertheless, he had a grim, sinking feeling in his abdomen. He’d wondered why the alien planet had so willingly handed out the secret of unlimited power. It had almost seemed in a hurry to tell them.

‘I don’t believe you,’ he said. He paused. ‘How?’

‘Continued use of the suntap creates a clearly identifiable signature in the heart of a star. It is then straightforward for my kind to target those stars and manipulate them, just as the lure star that brought you here was manipulated. The resultant shock waves will kill all life near those targets.’

‘Targeting
stars
?’ Will repeated stupidly.

‘It should not be difficult for you to believe,’ said the alien. ‘Examination of the suntap schematic will show you that we have the power to instantaneously sample and affect a stellar context at a distance. The lure star is sufficient proof of our power to tune stellar radiation to our needs. Do you suppose that, given access to suntap technology, humanity will prove restrained enough to never use it? Four human-occupied stars have already begun to show tapping signatures: the ones you call Zuni-Dehel and Memburi, along with two others your species use for fuelling.’

Will began to believe, and to be afraid. Four whole star systems that these aliens could snuff out at will. The moment the Earthers used a suntap in the home system, most of the human race would be at risk. Anger welled inside him.

‘But why? We’ve never hurt you. Why would you do this to us?’

‘To keep the galaxy safe,’ the female said. ‘We police the gate. All species that pass through it are given the gift. Safe species are permitted to use it. Dangerous ones are destroyed.’

Will’s immediate instinct was to claim that humanity wasn’t dangerous. But with war raging across every inhabited star system, that was hardly plausible.

‘What’re you saying?’ he demanded. ‘That you’re going to kill us all just because we threaten you? You haven’t given us a chance to prove ourselves. Until now, no one even knew you existed.’

The alien shuddered in a way that showed amusement. ‘You do not threaten us. We judge you based on your threat to the galactic environment. In our experience, there are only two types of species: those who will eventually transcend, and those who self-destruct. Transcenders tend to increase the number of planetary biospheres where intelligent species may arise. Destructors decrease them. Transcenders are characterised by their capacity to constructively self-edit. You are our first evidence that humanity is capable of self-editing. We consider you and your Galatean culture promising. Until your arrival, your species appeared to fall clearly into the Destructor category.’

‘That’s revolting,’ Will exclaimed. ‘You mean you judged us on the basis of the Earther crusade?’

The crusade was without doubt the strongest and most populous thrust of human culture in their age, but it felt so unfair. His alien body secreted a muddle of powerful smells – flavours of guilt and anger, all red and black.

‘Who the hell do you think you are?’ he said. ‘On what authority do you make this judgement?’

‘On no authority,’ the alien replied. ‘Does a human gardener judge the moral value of each weed before he plucks it from the soil?’

‘But we’re not weeds,’ said Will. ‘You can’t reduce the whole of human history to some shitty metaphor. We’re thinking beings.’

‘Then consider this,’ said the female. ‘Humans came to this place. Humans asked for power. We gave it to them. Humanity has not yet bothered to ask what the consequences of this request would be. Even without our intervention, sooner or later, humanity is certain to gain power beyond its maturity to handle. That has already come close to happening several times in the past. Eventually, your race will have to either change to compensate for its increased potential, or destroy itself. In dying, it would almost certainly destroy the potential spawning places for other races, just as it has already denuded the biosphere of its home world.

‘All we are doing is improving the efficiency of this natural process to favour life. We optimise the galactic ecology for the creation of new biospheres. Thus, even if we are wrong about humanity, on balance we will still have added to the diversity of life in the universe.’

‘But how do you know?’ Will urged. He clicked his spindly legs together and cursed the limited range of expression the unfamiliar body afforded him. ‘How can you divide all intelligent life into these categories so blithely?’

‘Because we have seen thousands of them,’ said the alien. ‘Our policy is not based on speculation. It is the product of a billion years’ worth of collected data.’

Will reeled. ‘Who are you?’ he demanded, a little more nervously now. ‘God?’

The female shuddered with mirth again. ‘We are the Transcended, of course. We are what every intelligent species becomes if it reaches the next stage. If humanity passes the test, it will join us.’

Will wasn’t sure he liked the sound of that, either. Was that all the future held for them – extermination or amalgamation into some galactic super-mind?

‘You can’t make us,’ he said.

‘Of course not,’ the female replied wryly. ‘Self-destruction is always an option, and free to all.’

Will reared his sinuous body as upright as it would go. ‘I won’t let you get away with this! I’ll tell people about the suntap. Even if you try to kill us, you won’t get all of us.’

The female produced the olfactory equivalent of a smile. ‘That was our intention in telling you. The one decision we make for each species is whether to tell it that it is being tested. We do this only when we judge that a species’ fate hangs in the balance, when a small amount of information may encourage it to change its nature. Please believe me when I tell you that I would prefer to see humanity survive rather than die.’

‘So you can absorb it into your culture!’ Will sneered.

The female exuded the Odour of Polite Disagreement. ‘Transcendence is something a species chooses for itself. It is never forced. Please also consider our contribution to your species before judging us as enemies. As well as the secret of unlimited power, we are giving humanity access to the galaxy through the network of gates we have created.’

Will froze. ‘You
made
the Penfield Lobe?’

‘Of course,’ she replied. ‘And hundreds of others like it.’

Will chattered his mouthparts in awe. What chance for independence did humanity have living in the shadow of a power that could make black holes at will? The galaxy no longer felt like such a large and open place as it had before.

‘Had we meant you ill, we would never have chosen to speak with you this way,’ the alien said. ‘You are being given the chance to determine the fate of your species. We are aware of your conflict with the culture called Truism and we are prepared to help you resolve it. However, first you will have to provide further proof of your capacity for transcendence. The information we have placed in your mind is a test of sorts. If you pass that test, then you and your race will deserve to reap the rewards.’

‘
My
mind?’ blurted Will.

‘Yes. You have been chosen to represent your species.’

Will balked at the idea. ‘I can’t do that,’ he cried. ‘I’m just a roboteer!’

‘That is exactly why we have chosen you,’ the alien replied. ‘Because you represent the pinnacle of your species’ ability to adapt.’

‘No way!’ Will roared. ‘You can’t put the destiny of the whole human race on my shoulders. I won’t let you!’

He tried to back out of the simulation, but nothing happened. He scuttled in a circle desperately, looking for an escape route. He grabbed at the flimsy walls of the bower and started yanking furiously at them.

‘You must rest,’ said the female. ‘Further alterations of your mind-body pattern are required.’

‘No!’ Will yelled, but there was nothing he could do. Piece by piece, the alien took him apart again.

8:
CAT AND MOUSE

8.1: GUSTAV

Gustav stared fixedly into the display, willing the Gallies to appear. His instruments still couldn’t see where the enemy ship had gone. It had appeared suddenly and fled into the sun’s inaccessible region far too fast for their drones to follow. Now it was lost again, but not for long.

Gustav had set his drones out in an optimal pursuit configuration and had them madly scanning the region around the dwarf star for any suspicious signals. Fortunately, there were only a few places his enemy could be, and he already had them covered. If the Gallies wanted to get home, they’d have to go through him first.

Gustav felt nauseous with anticipation as he watched the search unfold. It didn’t help that Rodriguez had stuck by his side the whole time. Since the emergency started, the disciple’s mouth had been glued tight shut in a pucker of sanctimonious condemnation. As if this event somehow entirely justified the insane plan to try to destroy the Relic. Gustav dearly wanted to order the disciple out of the command room, but knew better. He intended to win this fight, and he wanted Rodriguez to see it first hand. As the minutes of searching dragged on, Rodriguez ventured a dry remark.

‘
Still
not found them, General? Perhaps this is how you intend to introduce the Following to the Relic – by giving our secrets away to the enemy.’

Gustav shot him an impatient glare. ‘They won’t leave here alive,’ he growled, then chastised himself – why was he bothering to justify his actions?

‘Really?’ said Rodriguez. ‘A suspicious man might imagine you’d invited them in on purpose. There is much about you that is reminiscent of the Galateans, General. A lack of faith. An indiscriminate lust for knowledge.’

Gustav fought back the snide ripostes that sprang to mind.

‘The moment you attacked Memburi, you must have known the Gallies would become curious,’ the disciple went on.

And of course, Gustav had. He just hadn’t expected it so soon. Nothing in Tang’s report on the Battle of Memburi suggested that the enemy had made a successful soft assault, just glowing reports of perfectly executed manoeuvres. Gustav wished he hadn’t let the admiral talk him into using the assault on Memburi as a test for their weapon. If they’d done as he’d originally planned and kept the suntap for the attack on Galatea, none of this would have happened.

Abruptly, an idea came to him. If the suntap had got them into this bind, maybe it could get them out.

‘Do those drones have their suntaps online?’ he asked the watch officer.

‘Not yet, sir – they chased in with warp. But they can be ready in a matter of minutes.’

Gustav smiled. ‘Have them fire in a scanning pattern across the range of the Gallies’ possible location.’ That way the bastards were bound to sustain some damage, if only a little. It might even render them visible. ‘Tune the telescopes to look for any associated scattering that results,’ he added. His eyes narrowed as he stared into the screen once more. ‘Let’s see how the gene-bending scum like it when we turn up the heat a little.’

8.2: IRA

There were long, gruelling hours of waiting while the
Ariel
dived around the sun. Inevitably, the ship heated up. It was used to receiving a lot of hard radiation, but nothing this intense. The star might have been relatively small and dark, but it was still a star.

From his bunk Ira could hear the ship expanding all round them, causing deep, miserable groans that echoed through the mesohull. The buffers zipped and crackled under the barrage of solar radiation. Yet, beneath the whole racket, Ira could still make out the gruesome sound of Will’s ragged breathing.

‘More drones closing in on us,’ Hugo reported glumly.

Ira examined the enemy’s spread pattern again. The one source of satisfaction he could find was that the Earthers had underestimated the efficiency of his engines. He’d be able to use warp earlier than they expected.

Unfortunately, it wouldn’t do him much good. He’d be instantly visible, and dangerously slow this deep in-system. If he headed in any kind of useful direction, the drones would still intercept him long before he reached clear space. The trick was surely to get his ship out on an exit vector the enemy wouldn’t predict, then to fly far enough away that a course change wouldn’t buy him immediate trouble. He set a search SAP looking for flaws in the Earther containment pattern. Programming it was a clumsy process without a roboteer around to help out.

Thinking about that brought his mind back to Amy and her progress with Will. She was still toiling with him at the bottom of the cabin, looking for some kind of cure for his condition.

He leaned out of his bunk. ‘Hey, Amy,’ he asked softly. ‘How’s our handler doing?’

She leaned back and sighed. Her face wore hard lines. Ira knew that problems like this brought her maternal side out in full force, and it hurt her to not be able to help.

‘It’s too early to say,’ she said. ‘I’m trying to flood his body with antivirals, but it’s not working. The damned infection changes as soon as I get a protein profile for it. There’s no way I can keep his immune system intact without taking out his micromachines. And with the tools I have here, I can’t do that without causing severe damage to his interface at the same time. I’m looking for other solutions.’

‘How about just waking him up?’ said Ira. ‘Could we do that?

Amy shook her head. ‘I don’t think so. His interface is still locked in a feedback pattern. It’s like full memory recall, only worse. I have no idea what’s happening in there. Or even if he’ll be quite the same Will when he wakes up.’

Ira winced. ‘Is it really that bad? Could this thing actually change his personality?’

‘We have no way of knowing. Think what the alien software did to this ship. For all we know, the same sort of chaos is happening inside his head.’

Ira didn’t like the thought of a hacked person in his cabin. You could turn a computer off and reboot it. You couldn’t do that with a member of your crew. The thought distressed him enough that he decided to change the subject.

‘How about you?’ he asked.

Amy tried for a brave smile. ‘Well, I tested Rachel and myself for the virus, and although we both came out positive for exposure, the infection doesn’t appear to be making any headway. It’s just not that virulent without the help it’s getting from Will’s micromachines. Which supports the theory that we’re dealing with something of technological origin rather than a true disease, I guess. But I’ve given Rachel and myself antiviral boosters just to be on the safe side.’

Ira nodded. ‘And what about you, Rachel?’ he said, glancing across at her bunk. ‘Any news about the ship?’

‘What?’ Rachel sounded fraught and distant.

‘Have you made any progress?’

‘Some,’ she replied morosely. ‘I have a full set of robots back under manual control, but no SAPs to run them. The core systems look stable enough, though. We’ve got full engine power, but we should run another suite of tests before we use them again.’

‘Run them,’ said Ira.

‘Hey, Captain,’ John interjected. ‘Remember that the longer we wait, the bigger the problem we’ll have. If the Earthers alert Zuni-Dehel before we get away, we could have a whole fleet after us. We’ll be the most hunted people in the galaxy.’

Ira breathed deeply. ‘I know. But right now, we have pursuit drones closing on us from every direction, an alien virus on board and no SAP control. We can worry about being infamous later.’

The moment after the words left Ira’s mouth, an awful snapping sound filled the cabin, like the crack of a mighty whip.

He glanced around. ‘What the
hell
was that?’

‘Secondary buffer damage!’ said Rachel. ‘We were hit with a g-ray. Hard!’

‘Have they found us?’ he demanded.

‘Don’t think so. Contact was very quick. Damage pattern is linear. Went straight across us.’

Suddenly, Ira guessed what was happening. Ulanu had taken to firing blind with his suntap weapons.

Crack!
The sound came again.

‘Secondary buffers at eighty-six per cent,’’ said Rachel.

‘Hugo,’ said Ira, ‘how long to warp altitude if we go straight up?’

Hugo grunted and cursed as he handled the unfamiliar interface. ‘Er … about a minute. But we’d be completely visible the moment we fired the torches. I don’t recommend it – there are an awful lot of drones out there.’

Crack!

‘Secondary buffers at sixty-nine per cent. That one kept target for longer,’ Rachel warned.

Which meant the drones were narrowing their search space. They must have got a signal bounce off the
Ariel
’s hull.

‘Strap in, everybody,’ Ira called. ‘We’re heading out.’

He examined the results of his flaw-finding program. There was a narrow aperture that the Earthers hadn’t adequately covered, and with good reason. It was the direction that led directly away from home – the only flight path that did them no good at all.

‘Amy, get Will back into that tank,’ he ordered. ‘Rachel, help her.’

The two women jumped into action and then scrambled madly into their bunks.

The moment Rachel gave him the all clear, Ira hit the torches.

G-ray beams from the drones converged and fired. There was an awful moment during which the buffers snapped and boomed like lightning. Ira veered the ship desperately out of the onslaught only to have them track him again.

At last, they reached warp altitude and Ira turned full power to the gravity drive. The warp engines punched on, accelerating them out of the alien system.

‘Fire countermeasures!’ Ira barked.

‘On it,’ said John.

Defence drones ripped away from the ship behind them, annihilating some of the opposition, but not enough. The race was on again.

‘Amy, how’re we looking?’ said Ira.

‘It’s touch and go,’ she replied. ‘A dead climb and there’s not much in it.’

Ira thought fast. ‘Rachel – I want you to over-tune our engine burst rate.’

It was a stupidly dangerous thing to do so soon after repairs, but he could think of nothing else.

‘Captain …?’

‘Just do it!’ he shouted. Over-tuning the engine would burn juice fast and might well blow them up, but in a few minutes, that probably wouldn’t matter.

It took for ever for Rachel to make the adaptation without proper robot support. While she worked, Ira watched the drones close inexorably upon them. Thankfully, they’d disengaged those terrible suntap rays, but there were still antimatter warheads to worry about.

‘Done!’ Rachel gasped.

Ira kicked in the new program and the hum of the engines rose to an ear-splitting whine. The M-dwarf shrank rapidly behind them, but the tidal effect of the over-formed gravity shell produced a foul thudding sensation. Gravity jumped sickeningly, as if someone were repeatedly stomping on the brakes in a ground transport.

‘Ira!’ Amy yelled. ‘You’re pushing Will’s life signs into the red!’

Ira roared his displeasure.

‘Trying to compensate with muscular injections,’ she told him.

Ira held his breath as they reached the system’s FTL threshold. The whole crew cheered frantically as they reached clean space, but they weren’t out of the woods yet. They still had to make it impossible for anyone to follow.

‘Prepare for immediate warp-scatter manoeuvres,’ said Ira. ‘Amy, I need a flight pattern.’

‘I can’t give you one!’ she wailed. ‘Not if you want me to keep Will alive.’

‘Then forget it. Fleet standard will do. Hold on tight, everybody.’

He began the series of gut-wrenching course corrections required to disperse their warp trail. It was the only thing that would grant them any certainty of survival.

It was impossible to see who was after you in an FTL chase, but it was almost as difficult to do the chasing. Hang around long enough to see the radiation from your target and it meant he was already getting away. You could track him but never catch up as long as he changed course often enough. Unfortunately, that meant a fleeing ship had to make a violent change of direction at least once every five minutes to avoid being nailed. Let a pursuit drone get too close and he’d close on you from sheer spatial distortion.

Gravity swatted Ira sideways against the wall of his bunk, knocking the wind from his lungs. He gasped in surprise and reluctantly reduced the extra burn he was putting into the drives. If that turn had knocked the wind out of him, he hated to think what it had done to Will.

Fifteen minutes of body-busting course alterations later, they were outside the drones’ flight range and still alive. The probability of pursuit had dropped to negligible levels.

‘We’re clear,’ Ira breathed.

Clapping and nervous laughter broke out in the cabin.

‘Okay,’ he said, ‘Amy, set a course for home whenever you can make it.’

Ira wasn’t kidding himself that the danger was over. Ulanu would have drones ready to intercept him on all the most likely flight vectors. It was normally impossible to catch up with someone in deep space, but with the bottleneck of the Penfield Lobe to pass through, there were no guarantees.

Rachel spoke up. ‘Captain, if the heat is off, we have some serious buffer damage to attend to. And without robot support, it’s going to be hard to fix.’

‘Get on it. Hugo, you help her.’

Ira readied himself to quash Hugo’s inevitable complaint, but apparently the scientist had learned something from the last few hours. All Ira heard in reply was a slightly sullen, ‘Yes, sir.’

With the crew at work, he set about trying to train a SAP to predict Ulanu’s likely ambush points. The work was cumbersome, and Ira began to realise how stupid it would have been to leave Will on St Andrews – even a vulnerable roboteer was better than no roboteer at all.

So engrossed was he in the tricky programming that he jumped when an alarm sounded from the flight-management subsystem. He glanced across at their vector and saw that it had changed dramatically without his intervention. Furthermore, they were losing speed fast.