Read The Heart of Matter: Odyssey One Online
Authors: Evan Currie
Sanders paled. “Sir. We really don’t want to tangle with a Class Two species.”
Eric rubbed his face. “Son, you need to stop talking in code.”
“Class Two species, on the Kardashev scale,” the crewman said, looking for a reaction.
Unfortunately for him, Eric didn’t have a clue what he was talking about. He knew enough about the physics of the ship to be considered conversant in a lot of science-heavy topics, but this one was completely alien to him.
Sanders winced. “Sir, we’re not even considered a Class One species yet—at least not unanimously by the scientific community. General consensus is that humans—from Earth, anyway—rank around point-nine-eight on the scale.”
“That’s pretty close to one,” Eric said, frowning.
“Yes, sir, but the scale isn’t linear,” Sanders said. “Where it starts exactly is debated, but a species probably first registers when they tame fire. Call that a Class Zero species, if you like. A Class One is a species that can produce energy equivalent to the total power potential of a planet. We’re close…but not quite there.”
“And these guys?”
“If this is a mega construct like a Dyson Cloud, then they’re a Class Two species,” Sanders said, “a species capable of tapping the total power potential of a star. That’s so far past us, sir, it’s not even the same
game
anymore.”
“If it’s the Drasin, we’ve been handling ourselves all right so far,” Eric said firmly. “It’s quality against quantity.”
“Just remember, sir,” Sanders mustered his nerve, “quantity has a quality all its own.”
Eric half smiled, looking at the young man closely for a moment. “Now you’re talking a language I understand. I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Yes, sir. Sorry if I was out of line, Captain.”
“No apologies. I asked, you answered.”
“Yes, sir.”
Eric nodded to the chief and spared a second for the crewman, then kicked off the wall and headed back up toward officer country. Crewman Sanders’s words were ringing in his mind as he moved, so he headed straight back to the bridge.
“Any change in status?” he asked as he stepped onto the command deck of the
Odyssey
.
“No, sir.” Commander Roberts shook his head as he stepped up from the captain’s station, clearing the way for Eric to step in. “Did you find out what you wanted to know?”
“Wanted? No.” Eric shook his head. “Needed? Maybe. I need to check a few things, Commander. Keep an eye on the sensor track, if you please?”
“Aye, sir.”
“Thank you,” Eric said, slipping into his chair and calling up information on mega constructs, Dyson clouds, and the Kardashev scale.
It took only a few minutes of skimming the files to see what Sanders was talking about. The Kardashev scale was a geometric progression, from a theoretical zero point through to Class One, Two, and Three. Class One was the capacity to manage the total power potential of a planet, Two was the same but for a star, and then Three…Three was a species that could do the same thing for a galaxy. The very idea boggled his mind in ways he hadn’t felt since he was a child, but luckily, he wasn’t dealing with that just yet.
The power output of a star was huge, incredibly so, but it was something he could imagine. Something he could mentally wrap his mind around and keep his sanity intact. He wasn’t so sure he could do the same if faced with a Class Three species.
As for the potential construct itself, Sanders’s theory sounded good. He did get the names wrong, but Eric supposed that there would be some discussion over such things, which would explain as much. Freeman Dyson postulated the concept in 1960, amazingly enough, and Sanders was quite correct about it fitting the readings they were seeing.
A complex Dyson Swarm, to be specific, fit the readings best. It had to be extremely complex and much tighter woven than the more common predictions stored in the
Odyssey
’s banks, but it fit. Sunlight was blocked, absorbed by the orbiting satellites, but they couldn’t insulate all of the heat transfer, so that was what the
Odyssey
’s close-range infrared scopes were detecting.
He made some quick calculations, assuming that the star was precisely where the James Webb scope said it was, and then used that as a reference point to estimate the center of the swarm. The computer spat back the numbers a moment later, leaving Eric to sit back and just think quietly for a minute.
Twelve light-minutes in diameter. My god, how do you build anything that big in so little time? We’re too close. If we light up our drives, we’ll never be able to cut our momentum and pull clear before we’re spotted and overtaken—not if they have any kind of watch at all. What have I done?
“Commander.”
“Sir.” Roberts stepped over quickly.
“By my math, we’re six hours from contact,” he said dully. “We’re invisible, hopefully, but if what I now suspect is right…we’re…” Eric smiled ruefully. “Well, Commander, ‘outnumbered’ doesn’t begin to describe it.”
“Captain? I don’t understand.”
Eric sent the relevant notes to a slate and handed it off to Roberts. “Read that. It’ll describe it better than I can.
Commander, I may have just led us into a wasps’ nest, and I’m not certain we can get out.”
Roberts frowned. It didn’t take him long to find the relevant sections.
“Is this accurate?”
“As accurate as it can be, considering no one’s ever built one of the damned things,” Eric told him, “if you’re asking about the swarm. If you’re asking about the guess that this is what we’re dealing with, I’d say we’ll soon be finding out how accurate it is.”
“You plan on going
into
that?” Roberts stressed, his voice dropping. “Sir, why?”
“Because I don’t think we can reverse course without being spotted and overtaken, not if it is what we think it is,” Eric answered. “And if it isn’t, then we need to know what the hell it
is
.”
“But going into the swarm, sir?”
“Run the numbers, Commander. Can we reverse course without being spotted?”
Roberts grimaced. “No, sir. We’d need full CM to pull away before we intersect the estimated boundaries of the swarm.”
“And if we use CM, we may as well take out a billboard with our position and send it ahead of us.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Our speed compares favorably with the enemy, Commander, but we’d have to come to a zero-zero stop relative to the swarm before we could begin pulling away. They’d be on us before we could build delta-v.”
Roberts clearly didn’t like it, but couldn’t argue. Physics weren’t on their side at the moment, and that was putting things mildly. “So your plan is to penetrate while under stealth?”
Eric glanced around the room, dropping his own voice. “Calling it a plan is being generous, Commander.”
Roberts snorted. “I’m glad you’re willing to admit that, Captain. So that’s it, then?”
“Unless you can give me a better alternative, I think so,” Eric said, tapping in a couple of commands and changing the images on his station displays. “Look here, at these high-res heat readings.”
Roberts examined the screen for a moment. “You mean the lines, I assume.”
“Yeah.” Eric nodded. “I think those are the cracks in the swarm. We can penetrate there, using nothing but thrusters as guidance. Nothing can detect thrusters from more than a couple kilometers away.”
“That’s because they’re so underpowered they can barely shift the
Odyssey
’s bulk without CM.”
“Well, we’d best plot our course as quickly as we can to give them a running start, no?” Eric suggested, his tone artificially light.
The commander grimaced, but nodded jerkily. “Aye, sir.”
“Get to it, then, Commander,” Eric said, “but try to keep it quiet for now.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll start on the course corrections—could be some tricky maneuvering.”
Weston smiled and clapped Roberts on the shoulder. He appreciated the fact that Roberts didn’t need to wonder at the reasons for that order, or question it. There were times to be open with the crew and times to keep your trap shut. This most certainly fell into the latter category, at least until they knew exactly what they were dealing with and had a little more to go on than just a guess.
▸THE IMPOSING BULK of Syrenne Tianne’s command, the
Cerekus
, slowed to a smooth stop, relative to the plummeting ball of ice and dirt that was currently tracking toward the inner system and Ranquil itself. Left unchecked, the comet would deliver a deathblow to the planet within a few more days, but despite that, no one on the ship was particularly concerned.
The small tractor vessel they had escorted out was more than enough to nudge the comet to a safe course, and in the process, they’d taken a few moments to see if there was anything of value in its composition to warrant harvesting the material for later use. It wasn’t unknown to harvest the comet shield for various rare materials, or even for the water itself, since environmental protection was part of Ranquil common law.
In this case, things were a little more complicated, given that the entire comet body would have to be surveyed and analyzed to ensure that the Drasin hadn’t done anything subtler with the material.
Syrenne looked out over the streaming ice and vapor, her eyes scanning the scene with little appreciation for the
spectacular beauty. After months of combat, billions of dead souls, and uncountable losses in terms of property and actual
planets
…Well, she had little interest in the beauty of a comet at the moment.
Particularly not one being used as a weapon against her world and people.
“Tractor One reports ready to begin operations.”
“Understood.” Tianne nodded. “Inform them they have clearance to proceed.”
“Clearance granted,” the young ithan said as she turned back to her station.
Tianne glanced to the time check and nodded. They were on schedule to have the comet cleared from its trajectory within two marks. That would leave the
Cerekus
free to backtrack the trajectory and see if they could spot any sign of the instigators of this particular attempt on Ranquil.
Useless as it was, it was still an assault on the planet. That should not go unanswered for.
For the moment, however, all Tianne and her crew could do was wait for the small tractor craft to do its job. Only when that was done could the
Cerekus
go on the hunt.
On the tractor ship, Ithan Marjir and the small-work crew under her command were focused on their jobs, and largely trying to ignore the immense hulk of the
Cerekus
that loomed above them. Probably, it was supposed to be comforting, but they saw it more as a reminder that this was anything but a normal mission, and things could well take a turn for the worse with little to no warning.
Marjir pointedly ignored the screen displaying the
Cerekus
’s position as she finished the last calculations needed to bring the comet into tow.
It wasn’t as simple as locking the mass in with a beam and hauling it around, unfortunately. Even with the gravitational focus of the tractor’s beams, it was entirely possible to both break the mass up and lose large chunks of it in the process. Since they wanted to ensure that none of it struck Ranquil, she had to keep the mass together—or at least within the scope of her beams.