AMP The Core (15 page)

I spoke. "Any chance that the Bulgar are going to come back? We could always use their help."

The comm was silent for several seconds as a data stream popped up on my holo-display. "If you look at their numbers, Mr. Grange, you will see that they lost 44 percent of their fleet. They are going home, and they are doing so with the fear that they may not be able to protect themselves from the rival Bulgar should they split off from the armada and attack."

I replied, "If you send them a message, Commander, be sure to thank them for their sacrifices on behalf of the Humans too. We are all in this together. By the way, how is your fleet? They were taking it pretty hard on the chin there for a while."

Grita spoke. "We lost 28 percent of our fleet, with another 25 percent either moderately or heavily damaged. We will be pulling those that are salvageable into our Carion docks for repair."

I pulled up the screens showing damage to our planetary defenses. "I would offer up any personnel I could to help with those repairs, but I don’t know that we would have much to offer. It looks like the planet-side weapons and shielding you left us with held up fairly well. I’m glad you were able to offer us a place where we at least had a chance."

Grita sighed. "That armada will be back soon, Mr. Grange. Their tactics are likely to only improve. And tell your Colonel thank you for the info on spotting the Durian ships. He just sent up the filters we need to detect them on our own. Had we known there were that many ships to begin with, we might have pulled up and run when the fighting first started."

I replied, "We’re thankful that you didn’t leave, Commander. We still have a huge uphill battle to fight. I think our chances will only improve as we adapt and improve our own tactics."

The comm was silent for several seconds before Grita again spoke. "We witnessed a lot of ships getting destroyed out there for no apparent reason, Mr. Grange. Would you care to enlighten us on that feat?"

I half smiled. "I wish I could, Commander. If I thought for a moment it would help in any way, I would pass it along. Our problem is we have limited resources that cannot be recovered if they are lost. We don’t have anything of use that we could share."

After several more minutes of conversation, I again thanked the Commander for the Gonta’s efforts.

I raised the Colonel on the comm. "Looks like York and I bought us another week. We caught the Duke on the same ship as his replacements and sent them all into the void."

I continued, "Oh, and get this, Colonel, the Duke has our comm cracked. He has been badgering me all day with comments about how elated he is with us Humans and our fighting spirit. The more bits of this whole space opera I learn about, the more it looks like he brought us here for the thrill of watching us fight other species."

The Colonel replied, "At least we know why now. It gives us reason to survive, if only to find and kick his ass!"

I looked over the planetary defenses. "When they come back, are we going to be able to handle them, Colonel?"

The Colonel sent a damage report. "We took one hundred thirty-six casualties, but only had minor damage during that first assault. That land just beneath the funnel is strewn with the remains of hundreds and hundreds of ships. I doubt they will come back in the same manner next time. That defense was an easy guess, as they tried to establish a classic foothold. Had they swarmed us from every direction, we would have been in a lot of trouble."

After dropping York and the others off at the quad, I headed out to Molov. The Duke’s fleet had moved back to its prior position at just over twelve hours’ distance away. We had survived to fight another day.

I set down in the field on Molov beside the labs. As the rear hatch opened, Ashley came out to greet me. Her smile warmed my heart as I stepped out to meet her. A long embrace ensued.

I spoke. "We survived another fight. Minimal damage to our defenses, although we took a few hundred casualties. We got lucky and destroyed the Duke and his spares again. I doubt that will happen a third time, as he will certainly be getting annoyed with it and park a set of spares a lot closer to us."

Ashley replied, "Our progress has been slow with Quan. He is only partially answering questions now, and the wait times are still at least ten minutes between each question. Doc and I have been taking shifts in the hopes of speeding progress. We have information regarding the Gontas and their Carions. You can at least take back information on their origins to them."

I spent ten minutes in the lab getting filled in on the Gonta history. They were an Andromeda galaxy species, one of twelve that had been brought over from different parts of the galaxy over the previous three thousand years. The Gonta had successfully overcome and then united twenty-eight other species under their Gonta Federation.

I looked at Ashley. "Well, at least we know where they got their name from. Next you are going to tell me the Federation was originally a consortium of gambling species and the Gonta won the bet."

Ashley smiled. "Close. There were five families, each from a different species, competing for the right to name the government that was to be formed once peace agreements had been signed. The Gontas won the bet and named it the Gonta Federation. A year later, the Duke snatched them away from the Andromeda after they discovered a mysterious temple on an unknown planet."

I nodded. "Sounds like a familiar story. Sarah Rogers’s logs said we were given the option of transport to a galaxy of peace. I wonder if the Gonta made that same decision and were sent here anyway. The Duke admitted to me that he was responsible for our being here. And get this, the EID drive that the Durian sold me, that got me started in all this—the Duke claims to have been behind it. He says he was just prompting us along so that we would be prepared for this grand battle that is now upon us."

Ashley replied, "And what if we win? What is our prize? Does he send us home?"

I shrugged. "Who knows what to believe. He said if we win, I could live out my life on an opulent ship surrounded by beautiful people who would cater to my every whim."

Ashley smiled. "And what did you say to that?"

I replied as I smiled back, "I said no thanks. I already had everything I ever wanted."

Quan spoke. "Such a heartwarming thing to say, Mr. Grange. My logs indicate a more aggressive personality."

I rolled my eyes. "None of that is any of your business, Quan. Let me talk to my wife for a few minutes, and then you can have her back."

Quan replied, "I thank you for your generosity, Mr. Grange."

I turned back to Ashley. "Well, at least this one seems genuinely polite; with the Duke you have to take everything in, knowing that he is just trying to manipulate you. I do need to see Frig though. Have to check on his progress because my time here is limited."

The short session ended in another long embrace. I left the lab with a high that I had not felt since the last time I had visited.

I walked into Frig’s lab as an experiment was ongoing. "How’s the wormhole factory going?"

Frig turned for only a moment. "I have managed to combine sixty-four microportals into a single sustainable wormhole. It remains too small for me to pass anything more than energy through, so I am not yet confident that a larger one will meet our needs."

I replied, "Is there anything you need to ramp up the size? Maybe you need to move your lab off of this planet. You said you thought the cesium core was preventing the RF power transfers you need. I mapped a large asteroid in this system. Maybe we can build you a lab up there. You would probably still benefit from the protector ship being here."

Frig shook his head. "I am not prepared to experiment with larger openings until I feel confident that it can be safely done. There are too many unknowns with this technology to take excessive risks."

I offered a half laugh. "Well, in case you haven’t noticed, we may not have much time. I expect to have the Duke’s fleet hitting us hard next time. I think the Gonta are going to bolt on us. I certainly can’t blame them, with close to fifty thousand ships taking shots at them."

I continued, "Have you looked in on the ship reconstruction?"

Frig replied, "Yesterday, everything remained on schedule. These bots are highly efficient at what they do."

I laughed. "Have you made friends with any of them yet?"

Frig turned fully. "Sir, they are autonomous robots, they are not sentient androids; they don’t make friends."

I held up my hands. "OK, whatever. I just thought since you had so much in common with them, you might have made a friend or two, that’s all."

Frig was silent. "I’m sorry, Sir. I didn’t pick up on your initial sarcastic intent. Perhaps I have been spending too much time around them."

I nodded as I lowered my hands. "OK. So, it looks like we are on track for getting the first Wren sent our way in about a week?"

Frig replied, "That would be correct, Sir. In addition, we have another thirty-six BGS suits available for you to take back. I have the Defender computer working on an adaptation of the suit that would match my Gambit physiology. The food and filter packs also require modifications. I hope to see initial designs before the week is out."

I raised my hand. "Oh, get this, the Duke admitted to me that he was responsible for bringing us here, and, he claims to have put the Durian up to selling us the EID! The sad thing is, I believe him. This whole series of wars is his doing. He is pitting one species against another in a game of pawns. He alluded to it being a kind of winner-take-all scenario. We needed the EID drive to budge us along so we could get in the fight instead of just running away every time."

Frig thought for a moment. "It would only make sense, Sir. The Duke and the enhanced ion drive. That technology was worth far more than twenty-five hundred credits. In the end, perhaps he did us a favor."

I shook my head. "Only problem with that is that he will expect a favor returned. With him, everything has a purpose that is different than what you would expect."

After an hour of discussion with Frig, I walked back to the Swift and took her for a short ride. I came to a stop over the fields where our fallen Defiant fleet lay. There were a thousand ships under reconstruction. Armies of bots carried materials from the surrounding landscape while others repurposed those materials for our ship repair needs. I chuckled as I thought how the scene as seen from a high altitude had the appearance of thousands of insectoids running around, a sight that would make Frig hungry.

I landed the Swift near a Wren that was scheduled to be the first one repaired. Just over half of the craft had the appearance of being new. A crew of three bots handled assembly while two others kept a steady stream of materials available. Various metal fabricators and welding machines were busy reconstructing the framework for the Wren beside it.

I sat down on a rock and watched for several minutes as I thought about what my ancestral Humans could have accomplished with not thousands, but millions or billions of the autonomous machines running around doing everything from constructing buildings or ships to growing food or any other tasks that had to be done to sustain their daily lives.

I then wondered what Man would do if everything was being done for him. Would there be nothing left for us except ever-more risky or bizarre forms of entertainment? How would we occupy our time? With the BGS, we no longer needed to eat. The built-in electrical impulses in the suits kept our muscles healthy. In fact, I was feeling much stronger through my abdomen and lower back without having done anything to work those muscles out. With the prosthetics, my abs, back, and neck were the only real muscles I had left.

I took my helmet off and spun it around, taking a picture of my face. I then placed it back on and brought the image up in the HUD. I was more than a little shocked! My skin was younger. The few gray facial hairs in my mustache and goatee had turned to black, and the hair on top of my head? Well, it was as full as it had been ten years earlier. The genetic injection I had taken, along with the healthy effects of the BGS, had me looking like a much younger man.

I returned to the lab and spent the next several hours with Ashley. Without a comm connection to Tresha, I was soon out of time. The flight back, even though only four hours long, went by slowly.

I landed in the quad and made my way to the Colonel’s office. "How’s the replanning going, Colonel?"

The Colonel replied, "We’ve identified five areas that we think are the weak points. We are moving resources to try to bolster the defenses at those points. In addition, we are mapping out contingencies should any defensive sector fail. I want to have a number of fallback positions that we can defend. If they make it to the ground, I want control over where they go. We’ve identified sixteen funnel areas on the ground that we want to steer them into. We will be greatly outnumbered unless we arm every man, woman, and child on this planet."

I looked at the monitor screen the Colonel had in front of him. "Do we have enough weapons to arm every man, woman, and child?"

The Colonel shook his head. "We do not. We have about one hundred thousand Ghouls, five million regulars, and another seventy million draftees if needed. After that we are into the general population that has no training whatsoever."

I nodded. "Well, I think if you put a blaster in the hand of just about any Human that can hold it up, you are going to get a fighter. All they really need is leaders that can direct them."

The Colonel sat back. "I’ve been going over plans with the Admirals all morning. This is a big planet, and it will be a lot tougher to defend than the Grid. We don’t have the advantage of fighting on our home turf. I think we are going to lose a lot of good people if they make it to the ground."

I put my hand on the Colonel’s shoulder. "Tell me what I can do, Colonel. Where can I help? Oh, and by the way, I have another thirty-six BGS suits, if you have volunteers to train in them."

The Colonel replied, "I’ll assign York to do that. I know the Ghouls are not an official force, but I gave her a field promotion to major. She has more than earned it."

I laughed. "Official force, Colonel—there is no more official force than what you have put together. The Admirals are running the regulars, but you and your men are every bit as official as they are. We are all one force for Mankind, and I don’t think anyone has anything different to say about that. Promote whoever you think deserves it. And when you talk to York, get that oversized BGS back from her. If the fighting hits the ground, that suit might be just the thing you need to stay in command."

The Colonel spoke. "How’s the Defiant fleet rebuild coming? When do we get a few Wrens?"

I replied, "Maybe by the end of the week. I flew over the site where it is all happening, and all I can say is wow. If we can make it through this, Colonel, I think we are destined for a life better than we ever dreamed. All of this new tech will let us focus on those things we deem most important. I’m hoping that won’t just be trying to keep ourselves entertained, but even that is a better alternative than the constant fighting."

The Colonel spit out a big chaw of Omega root. "I’m sure we can find something to struggle with, Grange. That’s the Human way."

I looked down at the disgusting sight of black juice on the floor. "Where do you get that stuff, Colonel? I would have thought that was lost with the Grid farms."

The Colonel laughed. "This? It’s a poor substitute for Omega. Commander Grita sent me a case of it. This might just be the thing that breaks me of the habit I’ve had for the last thirty-five years. We had a number of those plants cultivated on the Suppressor, but those are gone now too."

I smiled. "Well, maybe you can use that as a motivator for your men to win this thing, Colonel. That will be the only way they get their Omega back!"

Admirals Zimmerman and Chaulk walked into the room.

Admiral Zimmerman spoke. "Mr. Grange, Colonel, we have an idea we would like to discuss."

The Colonel turned towards me. "Well, Grange. It’s finally happened: the Admirals had an idea. Hahahaha!"

Zimmerman shook his head. "Mr. Grange. The Duke will be flying another ship out here. We think you should try to intercept it. That may buy us even more time. And we need all the time we can get right now."

I replied, "That thought occurred to me also, Admiral. The problem I see is that we don’t actually know where the Duke will be coming from. And somehow, he has been able to track my movements. He even knew how many trips I had made to Molov. If he knows where I am, I can’t very well ambush him. I can’t even camp out by his fleet waiting for him."

Zimmerman frowned.

Chaulk spoke. "That aside, can we get more of those microprobes planted on that fleet? That information was invaluable during this last fight."

I nodded. "That is something I can do, Admiral. I can take Frost, Powell, and Maxwell with me while York trains up the new BGS troops. I brought back another thirty-six suits with me from Molov. Give us a day, and the four of us should be able to cover a lot of those command ships."

The conversation continued for several minutes until York entered the room.

I spoke. "Sergeant, I mean Major, could you raise Frost, Powell, and Maxwell and have them meet me in the quad? We have a new mission. And we have another thirty-six BGS suits to make use of. You will be in charge of seeking volunteers and getting them trained on their usage."

York placed a comm call and then followed me to the Swift. "What do they have you doing, Sir? If you don’t mind my asking."

I replied as I thought-commanded the rear hatch open and stepped up into the Swift’s hold, "We are taking a load of microprobes out to see how many we can plant on the Durian command ships. It will do nothing but help us if we know what they are planning. Estimates place the Durians at having about four hundred of those ships. There will only be four of us, but I think we can cover the lot of them in a day."