A Quantum Mythology (11 page)

Vic couldn’t believe it. Someone was actually attempting a data raid on Pythia. The nursery ceased to exist as if it had been cut into ribbons. They found themselves in a blue sky, fast-moving clouds shooting by them. The attendees started to disappear. The feline executive began to scream and then fell, disintegrating as she did so. Vic knew that some kind of Pythian killer program had traced her immersion form back to her neunonics and killed her meat. That meant Karnak was responsible.

Then the sky disappeared.

‘Why?’ Vic asked, opening his eyes. He was lying on the couch that had been looking after his body whilst he was immersed. ‘They must have known it wasn’t going to work.’

Scab opened his mouth to reply.

‘The scorpion and the fox,’ Talia said, taking off the trodes she’d used to immerse. They had to use the assembler to manufacture them because she lacked neunonics. ‘They can’t help themselves.’ She was wiping the blood from her nose on the back of her wrist and examining it. Vic noticed that Scab was looking at her. There was something guarded in his expression.

‘Karnak are primarily a software house, and a good one, but they’re feline owned and operated. They could never understand software like a machine intelligence can,’ Scab said quietly.

‘Seeders’ sake,’ Vic muttered. The smart matter of the hull went split-screen at a neunonic command from Scab, showing feed from different parts of Pythian orbital space.

‘Are we safe?’ Talia asked.

‘They’ll be looking for us,’ Scab told her. ‘Pythia guaranteed they would maintain our privacy as long as they could.’

‘A lot of resources out there,’ Vic observed. They had leaked their presence in Pythian space to various intelligence agencies, which had also proved quite lucrative, otherwise nobody would have come to the auction.

‘That’s the
Bubastis
,’ Scab said and increased the view of a truly massive ship, its manoeuvring engines burning whilst it was still attached to an orbital habitat only slightly larger than it was. ‘It’s Karnak’s headquarters.’

The enormous armoured behemoth was actually dragging the habitat out of its orbit, and every weapon on the habitat was pouring fire into the
Bubastis
. Reactive armour exploded outwards, lessening the impact of kinetic harpoons and AG-driven submunitions. The side of the massive craft looked as if it was bubbling as the carbon reservoirs struggled to regrow the ship’s armour. The orbital space around the capital ship was filled with light as every Pythian defence platform capable of doing so fired on the ship. The
Bubastis
became a ghostly silhouette in the bright light of the craft’s energy-dissipation grid as it tried to bleed off the torrent of fire.

The
Bubastis
’s own batteries fired. AG smart munitions were launched, and small ships and defence platforms caught in the lines of energy exploded. One side of the orbital habitat was shrouded in light and destruction as it fell away from the capital ship. Explosions existed momentarily before being snuffed in the vacuum. The habitat, a luxury hotel by the looks of it, started falling slowly, almost gracefully, towards the cold, grey planet, towards dark thunderclouds of a civilisation-sized, angry nano-swarm.

The manoeuvring engines on the Pythian military contractors’ ships burned as they made for an orbit that would provide them with favourable firing positions. Fingers of light reached from the
Bubastis
to blister and burst their ships as AG smart munitions burst into more submunitions; counter-submunitions blossomed to meet them in almost pointless explosive displays.

Swarms of smaller craft flew out of the
Bubastis
, many of them exploding as they left the dubious safety of their mother ship, but more made it out than were destroyed. The smaller craft attacked defence platforms and got into dogfights with military contractors.

At the same time, the other auction attendees were leaving. Any resistance on the part of the Pythian authorities to their departure was being met with violence.

More than one of the more recently employed military contractors fired on the leaving ships. Whether accidentally or because another party had bought their loyalties, it didn’t matter. Pythia was wreathed in violent light.

Church, Consortium and Monarchist ships that weren’t heavily involved in the battle fled to high orbit, fighting off rivals and Pythian forces where they had to. They ran aggressively active scans and diverted processing power to analysis routines as they searched for the
St. Brendan’s Fire
. They offered ridiculous sums to Pythia for information as to Talia and Scab’s whereabouts, but the planet’s nanite populace was too angry to accept bids.

Fire spread across about a fifth of the planet’s sky as the falling habitat hit the atmosphere and nano-swarm thunderheads surged up to consume the burning matter. The clouds glowed with inner fire as the tiny machines converted the habitat’s matter at a molecular level, using it to make more of themselves.

‘Now,’ Scab whispered.

They spent some time analysing the local conflict around the station where the
St. Brendan’s Fire
was docked in high orbit, looking for the path of least resistance and then taking it, engines burning bright. They didn’t pick any fights and went out of their way to avoid existing ones. They ran.

The frigate wove between rapidly firing defence platforms and dogfighting ships from various factions, and steered clear of a garishly decorated heavy cruiser from one of the Monarchist systems. The heavy cruiser’s beam batteries broadsided and tore apart two squadrons of military contractor corsairs and a patrol ship.

The
St. Brendan’s Fire
got a close look at the underside of a fast-moving Consortium light cruiser glowing with the fire it had taken from pursuing mercenary frigates. Moments later, it exploded. Beams of light shot out from the
St. Brendan’s Fire
, destroying the debris now tumbling towards it.

A military contractor cruiser de-cohered in front of them, taking hit after hit from one of the
Bubastis
’s massive D-cannons as the enormous capital ship hove into view over the planetary horizon, still wreathed in light. The ex-Church frigate fired all its weapons systems. Submunitions exploded, beams cut and kinetic harpoons destroyed as the craft attempted to carve a path through the disintegrating cruiser’s wreckage. It came out of the other side badly damaged, carbon reservoirs flowing as the self-repair systems went to work.

On the bridge of the
Stigmata
, Cardinal Hak received the active scan-sensor data in his neunonics.

‘It’s the
St. Brendan’s Fire
,’ announced Crazy Fish, his dolphin navigator. The old lizard smiled, inasmuch as lizards smiled. It was more of a baring of his teeth, truth be told.

‘I can see that, old friend.’

‘Well?’ the dolphin asked in a series of clicks which the creature’s customised P-sat translated with negligible delay. Today, the dolphin was using the voice of some saccharine teenage musical-immersion artist. The cardinal had long ago stopped letting such things annoy him. The elderly lizard sighed.

‘Set an intercept course, tell the rest of the squadron to join us. We fire only in defence.’

The cardinal knew it wouldn’t matter, they would have to fight. As the Church ships peeled away from Pythia towards the bridge point, chasing the
St. Brendan’s Fire
, others would realise what they were doing and follow. They would be prepared to fight to capture Scab’s ship.

‘Here we go,’ Scab said. He watched the Church squadron head away from Pythia, fighting their way free of orbital space when they had to. More and more realised what the Church squadron was doing and followed, engaging AG-driven smart weapons and other long-range weapon systems such as particle-beam cannons in an attempt to slow the pursuing Church ships.

‘How many people have you just killed?’ Talia asked, staring at the battle playing across the smart-matter screens. Vic glanced at the young human woman. He wasn’t quite sure what he’d heard in her voice.

Orbital space was still carnage as the
Bubastis
tried to fight off Pythia’s punitive attempts to destroy it.

Pythia used the burning matter it had consumed to form a massive shape, miles across, made from quintillions of constituent parts. It wasn’t exactly a hand. It had eight digits, four on either side. Then it reached.

‘Holy mother of…’ Talia muttered. She watched as what looked like the hand of God reached up, wreathed in atmospheric fire.

‘Seeders preserve us,’ Cardinal Hak said as he received the feed from Pythian orbital space. Every Pythian orbital defence platform turned its attention to the treaty-breaking nanites that had just breached Pythia’s atmosphere. Untold trillions of nanites died as fire rained down from the platforms, the military contractors, the remaining Karnak Industries craft and any other nearby panicking ships. Pythia fed more matter to the ‘hand’, which was constantly being destroyed and regrown.

The cardinal knew that signals would be transmitted all over Known Space, and that both the Consortium and the Church would scramble fleets when they received news of Pythia breaking the agreement that it would never leave its own sparse atmosphere.

The fingers clasped around the
Bubastis
. Pythia’s ‘arm’ was tethered to the planet below. It pulled as generation after generation of its constituent nanites were destroyed. It pulled as the
Bubastis
’s engines glowed bright, trying to resist, but it was dragged inexorably down. As the massive craft hit the atmosphere its back broke, and Pythia’s sky was filled with fire again. The capital craft started to disintegrate and rain down on the planet. Angry, roiling black clouds consumed the wreckage before any of it reached the ground. Lightning played through the angry nano-swarms. One word was transmitted to every craft in the Pythian system.

‘Enough.’

The skin of the
St. Brendan’s Fire
bubbled. Superheated armour plate flowed like liquid as accelerated charged particles penetrated the frigate’s superstructure. The
St. Brendan’s Fire
launched AG smart munitions. Upon leaving their racks they almost immediately burst into submunitions, forming a screen between the frigate and incoming fire. Multiple explosions rocked the frigate. It was a one-sided fight. More fire from the
Stigmata
’s particle-beam cannon lit up the frigate. Reactive armour blew out but couldn’t keep up with the multiple submunition impacts. Two of the Church battleship’s escort craft closed with the fast, manoeuvrable frigate and emptied their kinetic-harpoon racks. The
St. Brendan’s Fire
’s reactive armour was overwhelmed and the frigate came apart, turning into a fast-moving debris field.

Behind them the
Stigmata
was being fired upon by the ships of the other interested parties who, denied what they wanted, had turned vengeful.

‘Fools,’ the cardinal muttered to himself. He glanced over at the pre-Loss knight in full mail standing next to him on the bridge. The knight didn’t actually exist – he was a manifestation of the ship’s AI. Hak was aware of the damage the
Stigmata
was talking through his ’face connection. He had served so long with the ship that he felt each burn or impact as if it was pain in his own body. ‘Well?’

‘I can detect no trace of a bridge drive in the wreckage,’ the
Stigmata
’s AI said quietly. Hak nodded and sent that information out as a secure ’face just as the
Stigmata
died in fire and force.

Nobody saw the heavily stealthed luxury yacht leave orbit because they weren’t looking for it.

‘What about the dolphin?’ Talia asked in a small voice. Scab ignored her. Vic wasn’t really sure what to say.

Pythia knew, but then Pythia was as close to omniscient as science could get. Scab accepted the ’face transmission and the smart matter of the hull formed a holographic projection mechanism. It was primitive, but Talia couldn’t receive neunonic interface communication.

Pythia was represented as a dark-haired woman in a simple and ancient-looking black dress. The dress and her hair flowed as if she was underwater. Rags were wrapped around her head, covering her face.

‘This was your plan?’ the manifestation of the planet-wide machine civilisation asked.

‘You must have calculated that,’ Scab said.

‘We knew it was a distinct possibility. We underestimated uplift greed – and stupidity.’

‘Perhaps I have more faith in them.’

‘Why did you do it?’

‘It’s in my nature.’

The woman appeared to consider this. ‘We will not work with you again.’

Scab just nodded. The woman disappeared.

‘You did it for the money, right?’ Vic asked. Scab didn’t answer.

‘You weren’t really auctioning me?’ Talia asked. Vic found the pathetic gratitude in her voice heartbreaking. He also didn’t like the way she was looking at Scab. He felt the prick of jealousy in his psychosurgically modified mind.

‘Not yet,’ Vic said, a little too harshly. ‘He lost his deep-pocket employer and needed a way to finance the next part of this idiocy.’

Scab reached up and cupped Talia’s chin. ‘Don’t worry. You’re still a commodity.’

Angrily, she slapped his hand away – Vic was surprised Scab let her – then she spat in his face and stormed out of the luxury yacht’s comfortable split-level living/Command-and-Control area.

Vic turned on Scab, his mandibles clattering together as he searched frustratingly for something to say.

‘I killed tens, if not hundreds of thousands of people today. Are you really that upset about what I just said to your nat girlfriend?’ Scab asked, then looked up at the ’sect.

‘I just want to be away from you,’ Vic said quietly, and left.

The assembler on the
Basilisk II
, as Vic had decided to call the yacht, not only offered a much broader choice than the one on the
St. Brendan’s Fire
had, but the choices tended to be a lot more decadent. Vic had assembled a selection of imbibable vices and some decorative flora in an attempt to try and cheer Talia up.