Tan stood transfixed before the holo-screen deep in Ganymede. The time lag was minimal and soon forgotten. The Chief Strategist’s stomach clenched as she watched the seven meteor-ships and the lone dreadnaught maneuver out from behind the shielding asteroids so they could fire directly at the enemy’s missiles.
Lasers beamed from the Jovian warships, striking cyborg missiles, destroying many. Jovian defensive missiles burned long contrails as they launched and accelerated into the void, maxing out at one hundred and twelve Gs. Cyborg lasers now began to target the prone meteor-ships. The minutes passed as hellish rays burned into armored nosecones or boiled away meteor shielding.
Tan heard Circe’s orders. They were recording everything, beaming the information to the Inner Planets. One-by-one, as their mass disintegrated and threatened to splinter into sections, the meteor-ships moved back behind the Jovian asteroids, once again using them as defensive shields.
Now the remaining cyborg lasers targeted the Jovian rockets, destroying eighty-eight percent of them. The few to survive the attack reached the nearest cyborg missiles. The rockets exploded like grenades, creating masses of shrapnel that moved at hypervelocity at the cyborg missiles.
Forty-eight enemy missiles disintegrated or were otherwise destroyed by the shrapnel. Combined with those destroyed by Jovian lasers, one hundred and fifty-nine cyborg missiles were still intact, heading for the twin asteroids.
“They have too much ordnance,” Circe said, appearing on the holo-screen again.
Behind her back, Tan’s grip tightened so she squeezed her fingers. Behind her, the archons watched in silence. Tan wanted to scream the question:
Couldn’t they even save Ganymede?
Was the enemy about to destroy the Jovian asteroids before the kilometers-huge objects could hit and deflect at least
two
enemy moon-wreckers? Who would have expected the cyborgs to launch moon-wreckers from Uranus anyway? Who knew the cyborgs had successfully conquered the system? The enemy moved and attacked with such unbelievable stealth. It was unnerving and debilitating.
“I await your orders,” Circe added.
Not knowing what to say, Tan turned to the archons.
In his purple robes, Euthyphro the Advocate strode forward. “Our fleet can still use the asteroids as shields,” he said, “gaining proximity so the warships can ram the wreckers once near enough. They ought to at least be able to deflect the two wreckers headed toward Ganymede.”
Tan faced the holo-image. What should she tell the Sub-Strategist? The Jovian System was doomed. That was clear. The enemy simply had too much firepower and too much mass in the eight moon-wreckers. Her appreciation of the Highborn-Social Unity defeat of the Saturn planet-wreckers last year rose in estimation. Even if Jupiter had possessed the entire Guardian Fleet of several years ago…
Tan pried her fingers apart and smoothed her robe. She took several steps nearer the holo-image. What should she tell Circe? What made the most sense given the system’s certain demise?
Tan swallowed in a raw throat, and she said, “Listen to me carefully, Sub-Strategist. I am giving you precise orders. You are sworn to obey me and therefore you must proceed as ordered.”
“Yes,” Euthyphro said. “It is wise to remind her of her duty.”
Tan wanted to order the man from the chamber, but it was all she could do to say these words.
“Sub-Strategist Circe, as philosophers we are beholden to do the most good for the greatest number of people. You have reaped the rewards of the best education given anyone anywhere at any time. I now call upon you to do your duty to humanity. You must use the two asteroids to close in on the moon-wreckers. Our computations show that our two projectiles will not survive long enough for impact with the wreckers. You cannot deflect even one of the enemy projectiles. It is a bitter truth. Therefore, you must survive contact with the enemy. You must survive, escape, and then do as you feel best afterward. This is a war to the finish with an alien life-form, one we humans created in our folly.”
“What are you saying?” Euthyphro cried. “Our meteor-ships must ram the wreckers and save us from annihilation.”
Tan shook her head. “The Jovian System is doomed, Sub-Strategist. But it may be that your warships will help turn the tide of the war elsewhere. It is a vain hope, but I choose to grasp at that hope so my death will have meaning.”
“No!” Euthyphro shouted.
“Escort the Advocate from the chamber,” Tan said.
Three waiting myrmidons leapt to obey, hustling a protesting Euthyphro out of the room.
Tan waited for the time lag to pass as her message reached the meteor-ship and as Circe thought about her response and then gave it. Part of Tan hoped Circe would disobey the orders and tell them she and the others planned the ram the enemy asteroids.
I want to live
, Tan thought.
It is such a powerful emotion. Yet my reason tells me it is impossible given the situation. I now choose to end my existence as a philosopher of Callisto
.
Finally, the holo-image of Circe moved. “You give us a hard order, Chief Strategist Tan. We are reluctant to obey it. But we are true to the Dictates. Therefore, we shall attempt to survive and join those on Mars, possibly. We salute your courage and your wonderful rationality. As long as one of us breathes, we shall carry the germ of a new Jovian System in us. Long live the Dictates!”
“Long live the Dictates,” Tan whispered.
***
The days passed as the Jovian people learned of their fate. The Advisor of Europa was unable to keep his calm. By tight-beam laser, he raged at the crews of the helium-3 tankers and the space-liners. He implored them to keep to their solemn oaths and ram the wreckers aimed at Europa.
The two Jovian asteroids splintered under the hammering strikes of the cyborg missiles. The enemy laser turrets then began to beam anew.
The Guardian Fleet and the accompanying spacecraft used the last debris and floating boulders until contact with the moon-wreckers. As the Jovian vessels passed the asteroids of Uranus, giant jets rotated the moon-wreckers and the turrets fired into the Jovian ships. The helium-3 tankers and the space-liners quickly parted into separate sections, spilling their crews and other debris into the void. The dreadnaught bore the brunt of the remaining lasers, and soon drifted into several burnt and glowing sections. The lasers next targeted the dreadnaught’s escape pods, crisping all of them. There were no survivors. Of the seven meteor-ships, three survived the accelerating enemy missiles, the
Erasmus
among them.
Once out of range of the lasers, the three meteor-ships began to accelerate and slightly change their heading in a curving angle. It would take a long time for them to loop around so they would be headed in the other direction. By that time, they would be far away from Jupiter and aimed toward the Sun. Once headed that way, Circe would have to decide their destination.
***
Before the wreckers hit the four Galilean moons, cyborg craft began to decelerate from behind the Uranus projectiles.
Tan had remained in the deep bunker on Ganymede, watching the holo-screen. Most of the archons had departed, rushing to their private space-yachts, planning to begin the long journey to Inner Planets. The Advisor of Europa was already on a luxury liner, headed for Mars.
There was a vast exodus from the Jovian System, but ninety-eight percent of the people had no means of leaving. There were riots in the domed and underground cities, mayhem, madness, along with random acts of kindness and generosity. Each Jovian reacted to the coming doom as his nature bade him or her.
In the bunker, Tan waited in philosophic contemplation. She did not want to live in a world without the examined life. She had fought and struggled too long to run elsewhere.
Once she realized that Circe’s meteor-ship would survive the battle, Tan sent the Sub-Strategist a last message. In it, she informed Circe of the Fuhl Mechanism, and the possibility that the cyborgs were on the verge of developing an FTL drive.
Afterward, the days passed until the enemy projectiles became visible to anyone on a Galilean moon’s surface. Then a moment in time occurred, a moment of infamy and extinction.
In the bunker, Tan reclined on a sofa, with a chalice of wine in her hand. One of the younger girls danced slowly. She was drugged so her eyes gleamed. The girl twirled around, spinning long ribbons gripped in her small hands.
Tan considered a syllogism as she took another sip of her choicest wine. Looking at the holo-screen, she saw that a moon-wrecker filled it. Tan spotted a crater. In it was a gleaming laser tower. With fantastic speed, the laser grew until she saw its focusing system and then the individual crystals making it up.
The tip of the chalice remained on her lip. Her heartbeats accelerated as her eyes grew wide. From the corner of her eye, she saw a ribbon and heard a final childish laugh.
Then the moon-wrecker that had been launched nine-and-half months ago from the Uranus System collided with Ganymede. The impact hurled Tan from her chair so she violently crashed against a splintering wall. The young girl forever stopped laughing as the bunker crumpled and collapsed upon itself.
A few Jovians survived in various habitats. Some had aimed their telescopes at Ganymede, thereby witnessing a spectacular event of rarest occurrence. The wrecker created much friction, heat and millions of tons of debris.
All the while, those of the Jupiter System who possessed spaceships continued to accelerate for the last bastion of human life: the Inner Planets.
Far away in the distant Neptune System, the Prime Web-Mind of the cyborgs received data of the successful Jupiter Strike.
Each of the four Galilean moons had been hit, eliminating the bio-forms on them. Even now, small attack-craft hunted through the system, capturing Homo sapiens on the remaining moons, asteroids and habitats. Many Jovian spaceships had escaped, although half would disintegrate under a barrage of accelerating missiles that followed them into the Great Dark.
The Prime Web-Mind was on the verge of completing the conquest of Outer Planets. Pluto, Neptune, Uranus, Saturn and now Jupiter were almost under its complete control. An outpost existed on Charon and there was data of an experimental group in the Oort Cloud. Otherwise, the Outer Planets were secured. It was a heady feeling, one that it had always known it could achieve. Reality, however, was so much more enjoyable than simulations.
Already, the accelerated campaign had begun on Inner Planets. Once the conquest of the Solar System was completed…
The Prime Web-Mind ran through known data and parameters on the struggle. It tested several new theories, ran through different scenarios and listed several unique hypotheses.
Once, it had been located on a habitat constructed of weird ice, orbiting Neptune. That had been a frightening time. A single missile could have destroyed its wonderfulness. That would have been a crime of the highest order. Now it was hidden safely in a deep bunker on Triton, one of the few moons with an atmosphere.
The Prime Web-Mind was a complex cyborg, an exciting meld of man and machine. The primary model was constructed of rows of clear bio-domes. In the domes were sheets of brain mass, many hundreds of kilos of brain cells from as many unwilling donors in the Neptune System. Green computing gel surrounded the pink-white mass. Cables, bio-tubes and tight-beam links connected the domes to backup computers and life-support systems. The combination made a seething, pulsating whole. The bio-tubes gurgled as warm liquids pulsed through them. Backup computers made whirring sounds as lights indicated a thousand things.
A panel opened on the floor. A small robotic device with multi-jointed arms moved out. At the ends of the arms were laser welders, melders and calibrating clippers. The various arms moved as the robotic device made a routine checkup through the primary chamber.
Except for a few trivial holdouts in the Jupiter System, on Charon and in the Oort Cloud, it controlled the Outer Planets. The assault-craft and cyborg troops would capture and begin conversion of the last Jovians. Already, a Web-Mind installed itself on Ganymede, although it had sent communications, complaining about seismic shockwaves continuing to reverberate through the moon. Three small ships traveled to Charon to capture the scientists there.
The Prime Web-Mind paused in its ruminations, playing back an unsatisfying memory. Because of its design and unique functions, the memories had the clarity of a holo-video.
In a white sterile room, cyborgs strapped a struggling Homo sapien with a high forehead and frightened although shrewd eyes onto a gurney. His shredded robes of office lay on the floor. Despite his advanced age, the human had supple muscles and joints. He was designated as Dominie Banbury, one of the chief capitalists of the Neptune System. Capturing him had cost seven cyborgs and two assault craft, an unwarranted expenditure of hardware.
Banbury’s personnel were in the process of boarding a cargo vessel and heading to the Number Nine converter. The Prime Web-Mind had recognized Banbury’s uniqueness, the subtly of the human’s mind. It had desired the specialist knowledge and wished to enslave the mind.
“I will pay good money or services—anything—if you will let me go!” the human shouted.
The cyborgs ignored the pleas as they remorselessly laid him down and strapped him to the gurney. Dominie Banbury soon began to rave as he thrashed, forcing the cyborgs to immobilize him with their titanium-reinforced hands. They wheeled him into an operating chamber.