AMP The Core (2 page)

The doctor spoke. "I told you some of those memory stores looked like they got erased. Probably happened when the new Duke tried to shut you down."

The ruse, as the Duke had called it, continued until the battery power reading, according to his own circuits, had dropped to 8 percent.

I spoke. "Tell us what to do, Duke. We can’t fix you if we don’t know what to do."

Ashley shifted in her chair, throwing her arm up over the back rail. "Such a drag. The things you must know. All your secrets. All gone in about three minutes. A million years gone to waste. And for what, so the other Duke can reign supreme? I don’t know, Quan, doesn’t seem like much of a win for you. Ooh, 6 percent. Is that dropping faster? It’s a shame, because I think you, with our help, could overtake the other Duke. Let him be the one that goes dark forever!"

The room was silent as the battery percentage continued to trickle away.

The Duke spoke in a hurried voice. "Dr. Touchstone. I am releasing a panel on my side. Just behind it you will find two metallic bumps. Apply any voltage across those two leads. I can convert it and recharge my battery circuits."

A small panel opened on the side of the Duke’s core, exposing the two contacts that he had mentioned, along with various other circuits.

The doctor reached down with a set of leads, touching them to the contacts just as the battery reading dropped to 1 percent. At the moment of contact, Touchstone withdrew the phony level signal from the Duke’s external circuits.

Touchstone spoke. "Whoa, we just got a good spark out of that. Your percentage just shot back up to one hundred. You can’t possibly recharge that fast from this small power source."

Touchstone looked around and smiled.

The Duke replied, "Only having an audio feed connected has me at a tremendous disadvantage, Doctor. I can’t be certain of what just happened without my full complement of sensors. For what it’s worth, thank you for complying with my request."

Touchstone continued to smile as he raised his hand in a fist. "Just keep in mind, Duke, sometimes a little cooperation can go a long way."

As I looked upon my wife and the doctor, a thought occurred to me. Maybe I was in the wrong line of work. They were immensely enjoying the mission that had been thrust upon them. The Duke was slowly breaking, and it was only a matter of time before Ashley had him convinced that he was better off as an ally than an enemy.

The various circuits that had now been exposed were the very ones that the doctor had been hoping to one day find. With the panel open, we had direct access to the Duke’s memories. As an added benefit, his reasoning algorithms had also been exposed. The doctor would later make the comment that he was having one of the best days of his life.

I returned to Frig’s lab to have a chat. "I think they are cracking him. And I think he holds a lot more information than we ever thought he would. It’s possible that the Duke has been around in one memory form or another for a million years. That would make him much older than any species we have known. If that is true, he might have what we need to rid ourselves of the Durians."

Frig sat with his small hand up under his chin. "I would not underestimate him again, Don. He could be working us for his own ends again."

I shook my head. "Yeah, perhaps, but I don’t think so. Before, he was always connected to somewhere else. His physical host was disposable. Now that same physical host is his entire existence. I think we are going to marvel at what might come out of him."

The Suppressor barreled through space at more than three hundred times the speed of light. It would take us almost a year to make it to where the Grid had gone. With only 20 percent in her tanks, the Grid would not have made a full jump.

Our counterparts back on the Orienta would have to work out their issues with the Gontas. Michael Felix would no doubt be pushed aside as a politician. The two Admirals would be the new leaders of the Human race, at least for the time being. As to where our people would take refuge, we would only find that out as it happened.

As a consequence of our new direction, we would also be taken to a point that was just outside the system where the mystery Human signal had emanated from. We were all eager to find answers as to how the signal had come to be where it was. Was this from the missing Grid-1? Would it somehow lead us to our origins? How were the ships that had approached it destroyed? These were the questions that would keep one up at night. I found thinking about our unknown future both fascinating and terrifying at the same time.

As I walked into Frig’s lab, he spoke. "Sir, the Durians—they have altered their course. They are now headed directly into Gonta space. This has to be of the new Duke’s doing, Sir. I can find no other logical reason for the alteration."

I replied, "That should take them right to the Targ system. After that, they are only a few days away from the first Gonta outposts. Have you attempted any scans of the Duke’s territories? Do we know where his remaining fleets are?"

Frig nodded. "They have been forming up around the Colossun home world. At last count, there were seven thousand ships of various sizes. I believe Commander Grita did the right thing by destroying the Duke’s main fleet. If I detect any movement in the direction of the Colossuns, we are going to have to make a decision, Sir. Do we pursue the Grid, or do we return and fight the Colossuns and the Durians? Our people are at the mercy of the Gonta defenses."

I sat in a chair. "The Gonta still have their Carions. They can run if they need to."

Frig spoke. "Sir, I fear the Gonta would be placed in a very difficult position. Their home world, Tresha—the population is nearly five billion Gonta. Those stations only accommodate four billion in a sustainable manner. The remaining Gonta could be squeezed aboard temporarily, for a moderate-length jump. However, that would exclude the possibility of the Humans remaining aboard the Orienta."

I replied, "How long have you known about this?"

Frig shook his head. "I am sorry, Sir. I only had the data to come to this possible conclusion over the past hour. It warrants a meeting of the Council, and after such, a meeting with Gonta Central Command."

I leaned back in my chair, interlocking my fingers and placing my hands on the back of my head. "It’s the Duke. Now we know why he sent the Grid away. We would have to choose between defending our people and recovering the Grid."

Frig nodded. "I believe we know the decision that has to be made, Sir. We must defend our people."

I sat forward. "How far away are we from that mystery signal?"

Frig looked at his console. "Twenty-two days, Sir."

I stood. "Let’s go ahead and convene the Council. For that signal, I believe it is worth risking another Wren over, don’t you?"

Frig replied, "I do, Sir. I will begin the process of arranging that once I have notified the members of the Council."

Twenty minutes later, I was seated in my normal chair in the council room.

Frig stood and then spoke. "Ladies, gentlemen, it has come to our attention that the Durians have turned towards the Gonta territories. It has also come to our attention that the Colossuns are preparing another large fleet. If the two fleets converge on the Gonta home world, I do not believe the Gonta are capable of defending it."

Gy replied, "So, you think they are going to have to run? Maybe we can get them to send those stations out along our path. It certainly would not hurt to have the extra resources involved in chasing down the Grid."

I stood in response. "That is where the problem comes in, Gy. There are nearly five billion Gonta on their home world. Those Carions will only hold four billion, although Frig believes that could be stretched to five billion for a temporary need. That doesn’t leave room for the six hundred million Humans they are currently housing."

George spoke. "Are you saying they would have no choice but to dump our people?"

Frig replied, "He is saying exactly that. There is no room on those Carions should the Gontas need to jump."

Ashley spoke. "Are you giving consideration to possibly taking over the Orienta?"

I shook my head. "What right do we have to do that after they helped us to recover our people? That would go against everything we stand for."

I continued, "If the Gonta dump our people on Tresha, I don’t believe the Duke would bring them harm. I don’t know what he has in store, but he would not have allowed us to rescue them if he wanted them dead."

George spoke. "What about the Durians? We know they want us dead."

Frig replied, "This morning the Durians changed course for Gonta Federation space. We do not believe they would have done that on their own. We feel there is a strong possibility that the Colossuns and the Durians are working together."

Rita stood. "How is that even possible? The Durians didn’t know the Colossuns or the Duke. They have lived all their lives separated by light-years!"

I nodded. "Nevertheless, the Durians have turned when logic would have dictated that they continue on the same course. Here, this morning, I am proposing that we turn back towards Tresha. Frig has indicated to me that we would potentially arrive about two weeks after the Durians. That is only if they proceed directly there. If they stop or delay for any reason, we could both possibly arrive at the same time."

I looked down at the hole that remained in the table where I had slammed down my fist before. "Every minute that we delay may seal our fate. Frig and I believe that this fleet should be turned in the direction of Tresha immediately. We should also begin to draw up battle plans, if such a thing can be drawn up with our limited information."

The Colonel stood and spoke. "How long before we reach Tresha?"

Frig replied, "Fourteen weeks."

The Colonel continued, "I propose that we retrofit the Ghouls with the enhancements the doctor has put in York. That would allow time to heal and train."

George replied, "Wait! You are talking tens of thousands of operations! Beside the logistics of caring for that many men and women, we don't have the prosthetics prepared for that!"

The Colonel spoke. "OK, given that we have fourteen weeks, and given that it takes five weeks for the surgeries to heal and another couple of weeks for moderately retraining anyone who has it, how many could you see getting done in the next two weeks? Keep in mind, Doctor, we have all those automated manufacturing bays sitting there just waiting to be used."

George sat down. "If we are able to load my designs into those man units, Gy, Rita, what kind of volume could we get out of there?"

Gy responded, "Assuming you used standard design templates, those machines back there could turn out ten thousand a week, if not more. You know, Doc, we built your infirmary using a standard template also. We could have a dozen new operating rooms set up by tomorrow afternoon. We have plenty of space on this boat. That gear they installed back there in those bays, it is top notch for replication projects."

I looked at George. "If you had a dozen op rooms, how many surgeries could you oversee per day?"

George grumbled. "The surgeries are automated. I don’t lift a finger; I only monitor the progress. The process requires multiple surgeries spread out over a three-week period. Conservatively, we could push fifteen subjects through each automated line each day."

Gy replied, "We could have three or four hundred of those lines operating in a week’s time. We have the space, and we have the manpower with the Colonel’s men. I would think that at the end of six weeks, we could have three or four thousand Marines hitting the training facilities, which we would have to build more of also. In fact, I would venture to say that we could have fifteen to twenty thousand Marines upgraded and trained before we reached Tresha."

I stood. "Forgive me if I’m a bit skeptical, but those numbers just don’t sound realistic for such a short time frame."

Rita replied, "Had we not been tinkering with those manufacturing machines the last few weeks, I would have been skeptical too, Sir. I think our bottlenecks will be feeding them enough raw material, which we have, and getting those Marines to heal without complications."

I shook my head. "That’s just hard to believe, that’s all, but you two are the experts. George, are you willing to take this on? It’s going to ramp up quickly. Since these Marines’ lives are at stake, I’m sure you would take every precaution. Is your staff trained enough to become trainers?"

I turned back to the Colonel. "And how many volunteers do you think you might be able to get for this?"

The Colonel replied, "All that we need. Remember, some of these fighters are already hitting seventy years of age. The bones, the joints, and the muscles aren’t quite the same as when they were twenty. When I parade York around in front of them, I believe they will be eager to sign up. If not for themselves, then certainly for the defense of our people."

In the following half hour, the decision was made to turn the Suppressor back towards Gonta space and to begin the process of upgrading as many of the Colonel’s men and women as we could to the new York standard. Along with receiving and having to train their new limbs, the Marines in question would be schooled by York on her newest shipboard assault tactics.

In addition to overseeing the automated manufacturing facilities, Gy had taken some time with Jeb to design new weapons for the upgraded Marines to carry. Each York fighter would receive a high-power battery in a shielded pack on their back that would provide power to an oversized ion blaster with an additional pulse gun barrel attached. The mini ion cannons would be equal in firepower to those the Colossuns had used during our recent assault of their ships.

After studying the wormhole bombs that had been experimented with on the Colossuns, Frig had reduced their size and scale down to something equal to one of my AK-47 rounds.

I sat in Frig’s lab, looking over his shoulder. "What exactly will a portal bomb that small do? I mean, how much can you accomplish with a portal that is only a picometer across?"

Frig smiled. "I at first asked myself the same question. As I toyed around with the possibilities of it being used to cut out a small chunk of a target and to move it a few picometers from where it was, it occurred to me what real damage could be done, not by the movement of flesh, but by the exposure of the surrounding flesh to the bitter cold of the portal’s edge. We could see a spread of the frost that took your leg from you, which would freeze everything solid for as much as ten or fifteen centimeters outward from the picowormhole."

I replied, "So, if I get this right, what you are saying is that if you got hit with one of these in the chest, it could conceivably freeze, say, your right lung solid?"

Frig nodded. "Yes. Technically, it would not freeze just a lung, but I believe you have the correct understanding."

I stood and spoke. "Could these be packaged to be fired from my AK?"

Frig thought and then nodded. "I do not see why not. They will need a mechanism for delivery. If you desire, I will see if Gy can set up one of his manufacturing machines to produce them."

I replied, "If I desire? Of course I desire! If you can once again give my AK value in a firefight, I am all for it! How soon do you think it will be before we can test them out?"

Frig punched away at the keyboard on his console. "I can have a standard template to Gy this afternoon. It will be a question of how much time he has to dedicate to another project."

I left Frig’s office with a smile on my face. If testing went as planned, I would be taking my assault rifle into battle with me in a fight against the Colossuns or Durians. Just before reaching Dr. Touchstone’s lab, I paused briefly in the hallway.

My mind raced at thinking about all of the goings-on around me. We were Humans; we took action. We planned for war, always with the hope that we would somehow be able to avoid it, but prepared to give it our all if we had to. Again, I was amazed at the quality of people around me. Brilliant, hardworking, patriotic, selfless, and determined—here on this ship could be found so many of the traits that had contributed to keeping our species alive. As I continued on and turned the corner into Dr. Touchstone’s lab, I continued to have a smile on my face.

Ashley spoke. "What are you so happy about today?"

I replied, "I was just thinking of all the great minds we have working on our survival and that if we can kick ass on the Colossuns and Durians—however unlikely that may be at the moment—if we can do that, then there really is no stopping our species. We will survive, and we will overcome whatever obstacles get in our way!"

Quan spoke. "Ah, Mr. Grange. That is the spirit that had drawn me to your species. Your species chooses to have a level of self-confidence and a belief that one day you could be the best. Most other species I have encountered instead have an arrogance about them, as they believe they are already the best. That arrogance inhibits their further growth."

I sat down in a chair and replied, "Well, I’m glad we can keep you entertained, Duke."

I turned to Ashley. "Have we made any further inroads?"

Ashley flipped off Quan’s mic. "We have. That panel exposed the circuits that Jon was hoping to eventually find. He believes he will have an interface ready to tap into Quan’s memories in another day or two."

I replied, "So, that’s it? You just tap in, and we know what the Duke, Quan, knows?"

Ashley shook her head. "Hardly. Access to and dissemination of those memories are two different things entirely. We will have to determine how they are organized in order to access anything useful. We might be able to pull up an image, listen to audio, or even see a video image if available, but without the proper references to define what they are and the context in which they belong, they would be as useless as tits on a Borak bull."

I pulled my head back. "That doesn’t sound like any phrasing that you would normally use. Is the good doctor here rubbing off on you?"

Ashley smiled. "No, that would be from the Colonel. He has been in and out of here a lot."

I replied, "I would think the Colonel would have a difficult time sitting in the same room as Quan here. The Duke can be a little grating in his responses sometimes, and I know the Colonel doesn’t have much tolerance for that."

Ashley laughed. "Yeah, I have had to send the Colonel on his way a number of times because he was wanting to pull his blaster and vaporize our subject. I’m sure he would not have gone through with it, but there was no sense in letting him get riled up any further."

Ashley reached over and flipped on the mic.