Encounters 1: The Spiral Slayers (29 page)

Finally, he lifted his hands about to restore order, but
amazingly, before he could say a word, all the noise and commotion dropped off
except for the low sound of weeping from several quarters. “Of course, the
light from these events will take 112 years to reach us.”

A wave of dizziness passed over the President. He closed his
eyes for a long moment, then opened them again. “The Loud have informed us
that, except for the Loud here in our system, their race is…” again his voice
broke, “…extinct.” He paused to let that sink in as well as to compose himself.
The hundreds within the large hall as well as the billions throughout the solar
system were in total shock. He continued, “I have, of course, told the Loud
that they are, and will always be, welcome here. We can do no less.” He paused
to turn a queue card.

The stunned audience remained frozen for several seconds,
then one person stood and started clapping, then another and another and the
applause quickly turned into a roar. Everyone was standing up. The President
looked up somewhat surprised. He calmed the audience. They returned to their
seats and he continued, “The destruction of their home world was due to their
sun exploding. However,” his voice rose and gained strength, “it started with
the unprovoked attack by this unknown species. Since their sun was still young,
we can only conclude that this hostile alien force somehow caused enough damage
to their sun for it to destabilize and explode.”

The President looked across the assembly trying to gauge the
mood. Every mouth hung open. He continued, “The Loud know nothing about this
alien species: who they are, where they came from or why they attacked. However,
you can rest assured that as soon as we heard of this tragedy, we started
ramping up our own defensive capabilities. The Loud, with their advanced science
and technology, have agreed to help us.” Wicker sensed, almost smelled, panic
spreading through the audience – they were just realizing what his last words implied.
He hurried onward, “These aliens will probably never come here, but if they do
pay us a visit, we’ll be prepared.” Applause exploded through the hall, quickly
replacing most of the panic. It quickly turned into another standing ovation. Wicker
sensed that a good level of panic and fear still remained just under the
surface.
Good
, the President thought. He would need massive funds
approved for the defensive build-up.

The President continued, “The Loud, who have not had an armed
conflict in thousands of years, had no defensive capabilities, none at all.” He
paused briefly, his eyes holding the cameras, to let all the implications of
that sink in. He looked down at the people packed just outside the door and
beyond. “Therefore, this attack on the Loud’s home world went completely
unopposed.” His voice rose, “Such
will not
be the case if they ever come
here. The Loud…” --  applause interrupted President Wicker and he waited for it
to die down. He continued, “As I mentioned, the Loud with their advanced
scientific knowledge, estimated to be about a thousand years ahead of us, have
agreed to help us improve our defensive capabilities, and I can assure you that
once in place, we will be able to repel any attack made on us.” Again the
chamber erupted with applause.

The solar-system-wide address went on for another five
minutes with overviews of what was being done and more assurances that the
people had nothing to fear. That the aliens used a ship powered by a black hole
big enough to span the distance between their planet and the sun, and that it
was headed straight for them at almost the speed of light, was not
revealed—that news would be released later and in small doses to soften the
blow.

---

The five giant slivers of stone stood in the cold blackness
of space in mute tribute to the foresight and ingenuity of their creators. Back
dropped by the jet black horizon of Cinder, which was starkly outlined by the
brilliant shimmering specks of solar wind soaring upward, the featureless black
silhouettes, five miles tall and one mile wide, looked like fingers reaching
out for the stars. They had been nudged here from the Aster Trojan points; the
forward point providing three of them, the other two from the trailing point. It
had taken seven years to convert them into the largest shipyards that Amular
had ever constructed.

Once completed, the orbital factory that had supported the construction
of the five shipyards had been nudged away and allowed to orbit around to the
sun side of Cinder. There, it had melted then, driven downward by the solar
wind, splashed into the molten surface.

To this day, the Hideaway Shipyards, when put together, stood
as the largest structure ever built and the largest project ever performed by Amular.
Of course, very few people knew of this.

Next to the five slivers of stone—actually dwarfing them -- was
the rectangular formation of thirty never used Leviathan Class Battleships.

Just 150 miles away was the loneliest and most mysterious
posting in the solar system: Cinder Station, a richly appointed control center
always manned by five officers, ten pilots and twenty marines. All personnel
had to have top secret clearance. The station had five fighter attack craft and
managed 200 unmanned remote guard stations. These formed a “globe” around the
shipyards and the ships, and none of them ever got closer than 100 miles. The
officers that had rotated in and out of Cinder Station had, for over thirty
years, never seen anything more than dark shapes – the few times the lights had
been turned on, everyone at Cinder Station had been confined to quarters where
they could see nothing. None had ever known what they guarded or what the
status indicators reported on – it was simply known as “the package.”

Today this would finally change, and everyone at Cinder Station
would be crowded around the view screens and port holes waiting for they knew
not what.

---

The Solar Quest had completed a controlled stop half a mile
from the stone structures fifteen minutes before the transmission of the
President’s speech was due to arrive. Captain Duncan Murray’s dour and clipped
voice came over the ship wide intercom, “Attention, this is the Captain. We
have just arrived at Dock One and the ship is currently secured at station
keeping. I want to welcome everyone to the ultra top secret installation known
as the Hideaway Shipyards.” Cheers could be heard down the long corridors of
the ship. “Due to the fact that the President’s speech will start in about
fifteen minutes, we’re going to pause operations so that everyone can make
their way to a video station to watch the speech. For those critical stations
that can’t pause operations, please contact me and something will be worked out
to allow you to watch the President’s speech. The speech is scheduled to last
about twenty minutes. I’ll expect everyone to be back at their stations in
forty minutes to resume operations. That is all. Murray out.”

The mid-ship conference room had a large screen, and Evelyn
and Brandon made their way there with Harrington and Leewood in tow. Someone
had already scooted the chairs around into rows facing the screen.

The Edens found seats, and Harrington and Leewood got seats
right behind them. Harrington and Leewood’s chairs were close together and she
could smell his aftershave. She liked it.

Then the lights dimmed and the speech started. In the
semi-darkness, Harrington saw Evelyn reach over and take Brandon’s hand. The
sudden feeling of loneliness surprised her. She was glad the lights were dimmed
for she knew that she was wearing her feelings on her sleeve. She blinked her
eyes then found that she was looking down at Leewood’s hand. It was only inches
from hers. She moved her hand closer to his and a hollow feeling formed in her
chest. She looked up to see Leewood’s strong profile facing the screen, but
that was not what she saw. Instead, Leewood’s head was turned towards her and
he was watching her with a neutral expression.

She felt the blood rush to her face as she cleared her throat
and quickly looked forward. She laughed softly at herself, but loud enough for
him to hear. Then she turned back towards him. He was still looking at her. In
the semi-darkness a sad smile seemed to form on his face. She gave him a little
smile as well, then a shrug, raising her hands palms up as if to say, ”Hey…what
do you want?” then looked forward again and tried to focus on the President’s
words.

Out of the corner of her eye she could see he had turned
forward as well. She thought he was still wearing that sad smile.

A moment later she felt him take her hand. He squeezed it
lightly. Her heart skipped a beat then she squeezed back.

---

Woodworth and the rest of the PR team had watched the
President’s speech from the capital building. When it concluded they could only
wait and watch…and hope that the one/two punch – the Special on all of the
things the Loud had done for them and now the President’s speech—would have the
desired effect.

In the hours that followed it certainly looked that way—the
outpour of offers to help the Loud as well as outrage over what had happened
was phenomenal. There was even serious talk by some people in the military
about mounting an expedition to go out and hunt the aliens down.

By that evening, people were lining up at recruitment offices
to join the military and for employment applications with companies who had
announced that they would be involved with the defensive build up.

The first flowers appeared at the guarded gate of the
listening dome compound a half hour after the President’s speech ended. And
then they came all night and the all the next day and the next…the young, the
old, the rich, the poor…alone, in small groups and in large…all of them
walking…heads down, carrying flowers, gifts and --  at night -- candles.

On the third day, an avatar came out of the listening chamber
and made its way to the gated entrance. It was Bugs. It went outside the gate
and then slowly walked around the giant mounds of flowers and gifts and it
looked at each one. Then it said “thank you” to every person that was already
there and all those who came. The avatar spent three hours outside the gate.

Most of the time, during the 200 years before the alien ship was
to arrive, Woodworth and the PR team wanted public sentiment and enthusiasm to
be at “normal” levels. High levels of sentiment and enthusiasm could not be
maintained over long time periods, let alone a two-hundred year span. However,
during crucial periods, the public would need to be keyed up about defending
their world, feeling sympathy and friendship towards the Loud, and equal
portions of anger and outrage towards the alien for what they had done. Right
now, right at the start, was definitely a time for ”high levels.”

Woodworth and the PR people projected that the overwhelming
support and unity they were seeing now would last for about three months. This
would fade and be replaced by a “positive” mood that would last among the
majority of people for five to eight years. After this, public sentiments would
return to and remain more or less at “normal” levels for another five to eight
years.

It looked like the ”one-two-punch” they’d put together had
worked.

---

The Solar Quest had maneuvered to a point a half mile from
the mile-high rock sliver that was space Dock One. It was more or less in the
center and surrounded by the other four space docks.

Unlike the others, space Dock One had a large pointed
skyscraper-like structure rising from the top. This was Central Control which
controlled and managed all five of the space docks, each handling a single
battleship. Central Control would be the first structure to be activated and
vented.

All four were sitting at the access and control stations in
the forward science lab. “Okay,” Evelyn said to Brandon, “let’s light them up.”
She entered a sixty-four digit code to gain control over the next group of
systems, double checked all the numbers, and then hit Enter. Then she typed in
the console command “stations(all):lights(all)=ON” and pressed Enter.

Like the previous trip, harsh white lights lit up the five
yards in stark relief. Both Leewood and Harrington had seen this before, but it
still took their breath away. Harrington looked over at the Edens expecting to
see awe, wonder, excitement or something along those lines. Instead, she saw
only concern and furrowed brows. “Hey, what’s the matter with you two?” she
asked.

They both looked over at her in some confusion, then seeing
the look in Leewood’s eyes as he gazed out the view port, Evelyn figured it
out. “Oh, you’re overwhelmed…awed by the size of our space docks.” She laughed.
“I’m afraid that what we see is a ton of work.” She shrugged. Her gaze drifted
over the five blazing rocks. She took a deep breath, smiled and nodded. She
took Brandon’s arm, pulling him away from a console he had been studying and
pointed at the shipyards, “Look! We’ve come home, honey.” She squeezed his arm.

Chapter Seventeen – Initiating the
War Machine

“...a mysterious substance called dark matter
and, its counterpart, dark energy. What’s going on is simpler and stranger than
you think.”

The Loud Named Bugs

Opening Speech, 23
^rd
Amular
Symposium
on Quantum Physics

Source: The Archive

The amazing and versatile five-inch metal spheres known as
sphere-bots had come home, although they didn’t know it. Sphere-bots had been
developed at Hideaway some fifty years ago, and like so many of Hideaway’s
off-shoot technologies, they had been brought back to Amular for general public
utilization through military channels, which easily hid the true source of the
technology.

First developed to take care of low priority maintenance at
Hideaway, they had eventually carried this function and others across the solar
system. They had become a common fixture in spaceships, space stations and
literally everywhere. If it was in outer space, you had the help as well as the
company of sphere-bots.

They were cheap, low maintenance, broad application,
self-maintaining AI units that did everything from common maintenance to first
aid. They were easy to take apart and fix and normally they did this for
themselves. Using rechargeable atomic batteries and solar cell skin, each one
was capable of reconfiguring itself into an amazing assortment of functional
shapes and tools. Each one had a low level of intelligence, but their strength
came from the ability to network and function together in groups, both
expanding their functionality and their level of intellect. But, although they
could function on their own, normally they became an extension of whatever
central AI system was available, further increasing their usefulness.

They were also, at times, quite comical. When they first
appeared, people swore they had individual personalities and were far smarter
than believed, even self aware. People marveled as they communicated with each
other and went about their tasks. Undoubtedly their most hilarious and
endearing feature was when one-on-one or even in small groups, to reduce
traffic on their local networks, they communicated with each other visually and
audibly through a rapid series of reconfigurations, which looked riotous, and
when done in an atmospheric environment, made musical-like clicks, clanks and
toots.

They could get around in a weightless environment by using
small vapor jets, but usually in the artificial gravity of a ship, they flew
around on low field magnetic tractor networks installed for this purpose. Otherwise
they rolled, bounced, slid and hopped about taking care of the central AI’s
bidding.

When first introduced, people loved them, children adored
them, and in no time at all, they had saved enough lives to make the little
metal balls heroes in many people’s eyes. Now, after forty years of service,
everyone took them completely for granted.

The first thing the Solar Quest did after lighting up the
docks was to release exactly 1000 sphere-bots. All of them were slaved to Solar
Quest’s central AI. Once outside the ship, the small metal balls quickly
assembled, separated into work groups, then set out for the Central Control
structure a half mile away. The ship’s AI had been carefully instructed by
Brandon and Evelyn during the trip out, and Leewood had run diagnostics as well
as some virtual testing so the cluster of bots knew exactly where to go and
what to do.

Out of necessity, most of the Hideaway shipyard structures
and all the battleships had been left with their reactors up and running at the
lowest settings. This was done mainly so the inside could remain pressurized and
heated just above freezing. Many of the inside materials, parts and machinery
would deteriorate if exposed to the freezing vacuum. Also, monitoring computers
needed power to send status reports to the manned guard station to be monitored
by its occupants who knew the status, but not the status of what.

The Edens, Leewood and Harrington worked at bringing the
yards back to life a little bit at a time, carefully monitoring each step.

The reactors were fine. There were no major hull breaches. Power
and hydraulics networks checked out. The main computer…it was running very slow
and that would need to be looked at. The communications network was mostly
intact. The water and sewer systems…well, they had some problems. System after
system was brought up and checked.

Due to various problems they left the other space docks at
Ready State Five, but they brought space Dock One, the command unit, up to
Ready State Three, which meant all the basic systems were in operation except
artificial gravity and the systems that depended on that. There was no way to
be sure that some heavy object, not secured to the floor, hadn’t shifted
position and drifted over something that would break if the object came down on
it. That was something that could only be determined by careful manual
inspections.

“Well, not perfect but good enough” Evelyn said.

Brandon looked at her and winked. “So…let’s go over.”

Everyone got up. Harrington stretched then casually asked,
“So, who’s going to be EVA Leader this time out?” She caught Evelyn’s eye,
smiled wickedly and pointed towards Leewood behind his back.

Evelyn managed to keep a straight face as she said,
“Leewood’s probably the best qualified. He’s got the duty.”

Leewood puffed out the side of his mouth in mock disgust but
didn’t object.

They all knew what the first order of business was and got in
line for the restrooms. Relieving yourself in an e-suit was possible but…not
really pleasant.

Twenty minutes later they were outside airlock seven, suited
up and checking each other out with the help of two of the crew members.

Leewood, as the designated EVA leader, ran them through the
safety protocols. “Radio check,” he said, and the other three responded. Finally,
the two crew members helped all four through the airlock’s hatch and sealed it
behind them.

The protocols for EVAs were strict, and those who cut corners
eventually paid. Accidents could happen too easily and were too often fatal. EVAs
were very dangerous even without mistakes for a number of reasons. The primary
danger was collision with space debris. The orbital velocity of such space
debris could be up to ten times the speed of a bullet, so the kinetic energy of
a small particle—a small rock or a grain of sand—was equal to that of a bullet.
Other dangers included spacesuit malfunctions, punctures, and AUS incidents
(accidental uncontrolled separation, i.e. accidentally being thrown away from
your vehicle with no way to get back). Fortunately radiation bursts from the
sun wouldn’t be a worry this time as they were shielded from the sun by Cinder.

Leewood, Harrington and the Edens carefully backed into the
EMUs, turned them on, and ran the diagnostic test programs. Each signaled to
Leewood that their EMU checked out then finished locking themselves into the
units.

“Control,” Leewood said over the radio, “we’re ready for Zero
G. Please proceed.”

The artificial gravity shut down and each took a moment to
adjust to the uncomfortable feeling of falling.

Leewood continued, “Control, we’re ready to vent.” Control
acknowledged and over a sixty-second period, the air pressure was reduced until
they were in a vacuum. They ran a final suit diagnostics and finally Leewood
said, “Control, we’re ready. Kindly open the hatch.”

The entire wall before them slid away revealing the Hideaway
shipyard, brightly lit, in the unnatural contrast of a vacuum. With no
atmosphere to defuse the light, shadows were completely black and colors were
strangely flat and muted. Due to the bright lights, nothing beyond the
structures was visible.

The team exited the ship and Leewood led them across the
half-mile gap to the main airlock at the base of the central control structure.
They arrived without incident.

Their plan was to enter the main structure manually. The only
reason for this was that if anything went wrong with a powered entry attempt,
the lock could jam and cost them time. Opening the hatches manually was far
safer. Their primary mission now was to get inside, not test the airlock
hardware.

As planned, five sphere-bots met them there; three had
already reconfigured themselves and locked onto the crank to manually open the
airlock. Evelyn drifted up to the crank and the three bots and inspected them. Then
she looked around for a minute inspecting the surroundings. Satisfied, she
looked back to the bots, then moved her hand up and down watching the small
fiber optic stem coming from each bot to make sure they were tracking her
movements. Then she clinched her hand twice – the universal sphere-bot sign for
”go.” The three bots strained for a moment then the crank started to turn.

When the airlock door opened, some air and debris were
expelled. A straw bounced off Leewood’s helmet visor and a plastic fork rotated
off in silence. The door slid fully open. Carefully, all four entered. The
inside light was flickering and more debris floated around them: the matching
plastic spoon, a Styrofoam cup, a paper plate.

 The two free sphere-bots made sure that all of them were safely
inside before coming in with them. Then they went to the manual crank for the
inside door, turned it enough to confirm that it was not frozen before the
outer door was closed. The careful step-by-step process went on until finally
the inside door opened.

Still using their EMUs, Leewood, Harrington and the Edens
exited the airlock and entered the main control center.

It was surreal. The inner hatch led to a large EVA ready
area. The lights were bright and harsh. All manner of trash and debris slowly tumbled
and danced in the cold thin air.

“Weird,” was all Evelyn said. She turned on the atmospheric
analyzer attached to her right arm and it immediately began testing the air.

Brandon had brought the “nose.” He removed a thin two-by-four
inch case from his carry pouch, then nudged his EMU forward to the nearest
wall. Here he opened the case and planted it on the wall. It was magnetic, but
also had adhesive on the back. The case contained a test nose, a few red and
green LEDs, and an analog gauge showing air pressure. It read just over twelve
psi. The “nose” was a growth from human lung stock that ”breathed.” It was very
sensitive and the ultimate test to see if the air was in any way harmful to
humans.

After watching the atmospheric analyzer on her wrist for a
moment, Evelyn cautiously announced, “The air looks…good.”

Leewood moved close to Evelyn and checked the read outs, “Ok,
no indication of poisonous gases or dangerous organisms,” he said more to
himself. He backed away and turned and looked at the ”nose” – it was still
doing fine. The two-inch piece of flesh with a hole in the top rose up and
down. Both LEDs were green.

He looked at the others and then seemed to make up his mind. He
reached up and started pulling the quick release catches on his helmet’s visor.
The others just watched. With a slight pop, his visor lifted away exposing
Leewood’s face to the outside air. He kept his hands on the visor ready to
close it again fast if need be. At first he held his breath and waited to see
if the air burned his skin or his eyes. It didn’t, so far so good. He took a
tentative breath of the cold air and blew it back out—a slight smile touched
his mouth. “A little stale and very cold, but I think we’re all-green.”

The others removed their visors and looked around at each
other. Evelyn then smiled and said with exaggerated fanfare, “I declare the
Hideaway Shipyard officially open for business.” They all laughed with relief.

---

At the Anderson Shipyard, Radin strode across the vast
assembly room. It was filled with people and activity, and to him, it looked
the same as any other day which was good and as it should be.

The thing was, not long ago, none of these people knew why
they were here. Two days ago the President’s speech had told them. But he
assumed that actually they had known why in general terms: to serve and
protect. Perhaps the specifics of the job really didn’t matter that much.

 A thought occurred to him. Radin looked around at the
elevators, then followed the elevator shafts up the wall to the third and upper
most level before the shafts disappeared into the ceiling. At each of the three
stops, walkways partially encircled the room with doors to offices. Just a few
months ago, General Burnwall had led him out of the top most elevator door and
stood with him overlooking this room. Over a thousand officers had stood at
attention in parade formation, in full dress uniform, on this floor he now
walked on. There had been L-Class fighters interspersed among them. He turned
his head and looked at the huge window at the far end of the room—it was empty
now, showing only the stars. However, on that day, they had placed the ten
Leviathan Battleships out there so that they could be seen trailing off into
the distance.

Burnwall had done all this to welcome him. And when he walked
out of that elevator and saw it all, it had overwhelmed him. He tried to image
what he had looked like to those down here on that day. Small, he decided.

Of course, Burnwall had not staged all of that just for
him…he had done it for everyone in the Leviathan Task Force to kick things off
and to infuse every member with pride, enthusiasm and initiative.

Anderson had not really had the facilities they needed – not
enough classrooms, office space or even enough quarters to house the 1000 officers.
So they had taken over the large assembly room.

The floor of the large room was filled with activity. To his
left, ten L-fighter simulators just in from Hideaway via a Loud Umbrella Ship were
being unpacked and assembled. To his right, twenty officers were seated taking
a class. Ahead was an L-fighter – a dozen officers were gathered around it
while an instructor pointed out and explained different parts.