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Authors: Christopher Nuttall

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BOOK: Storming Heaven
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He turned back to the main display and bared his teeth, studying the Killer starship dominating the Sparta System, the sight he had dreaded since he had assumed his position.  The Defence Force was decentralised, but the loss of Sparta and the starships assigned to its defence – to say nothing of the cadre of trained personnel – would hurt, badly.  The Killers, either by accident or design, had hit on one of the few vital systems in the Community.

 

“Evacuation underway,” Captain Waianae assured him.  She was a dark-skinned young lady with rare promise as a tactical coordinator, although she hadn’t proven suited to shipboard life.  She would never hold a field command, but Brent had come to depend on her and her fellows to assist him in coordinating the evacuation effort.  There were thousands of starships, crammed with refugees out among the stars, all of which needed to be sent to safe harbour.  Nowhere was safe these days.  “Sir…”

 

Brent nodded.  It would take nearly an hour to evacuate even one of the asteroids, an hour they probably wouldn’t have.  The Killer starship wasn't even out of range; if the live feed from the
Lightning
had been accurate, it could pick off his asteroids from where it was, without even coming closer to the Defence Force.

 

“The fleet’s requesting orders,” Lieutenant Windsor said.  “They’re standing by to engage.”

 

Brent looked back at the Killer ship.  “Order them to hold their fire,” he said, slowly.  The Killer starship was just looking at them; somehow, he was sure that it was scanning the base, looking for…
what
?  Only one thing came to mind, but there were no supernova bombs in the Sparta System.  It was restricted space, but it was still too public…and, of course, human rules meant nothing to the Killers.  “Can you tell if it’s scanning us?”

 

“Unknown,” the AI said, flatly.  Its voice was cold and hard.  “If the Killers are scanning us, they are not using any technology that we are capable of detecting.  There are no emissions from the craft, as far as we can tell; it’s not even radiating the standard RF transmissions.”

 

“Repeat the command,” Brent said, staring at the Killer craft as if it were a personal enemy.  “I want them to hold their firepower.  Let them fire the first shot.”

 

The minutes ticked past slowly.  Brent could feel trickles of sweat running down his back.  The whole scene was inhumanly still.  The Killer starship was just sitting there, watching them.  It made no hostile move, but its baleful present loomed over the entire star system, holding the humans hypnotised by its sheer immensity.  Brent was only vaguely aware of messages flooding in from elsewhere, starships offering to rally to the defence of Sparta, or even assisting in the evacuation program.  The starship seemed to draw in all of his attention.  It was impossible to look away.

 

“I’m picking up low-level power emissions from the enemy ship,” the AI said.  There was a long pause.  “I am unable to determine exactly what the Killers are trying to accomplish.”

 

“They’re trying to scare hell out of us,” Captain Waianae said, grimly.  Her dark face was shining with sweat.  Brent had a sudden mental image of how he must look flashing in front of his eyes and he almost smiled.  “They’re succeeding.”

 

“Remain calm,” Brent said.  The priority communications channel was lighting up, informing him that the President and the remainder of the War Council were watching the display, but he chose not to speak to them.  What could he have said?  “Let them make the first move?”

 

He felt his heartbeat racing frantically inside his chest, despite the best efforts of his augmentation.  After the destroyed star…were the Killers trying to
communicate
?

 

“Analyse their emissions,” he ordered, slowly.  “Are they capable of carrying communication signals?”

 

“Uncertain,” the AI reported.  “They do not correspond with any known or theorised communications system.”

 

“Gravity spike,” Lieutenant Windsor snapped, suddenly.  “They’re opening a wormhole!”

 

“Keep the fleet back,” Brent ordered.  His mind was racing; could they – should they – try to reply?  If there was a chance to open communications, it had to be taken, whatever the risk.  “Communications, attempt to…”

 

The wormhole flared into existence.  A moment later, the Killer starship was gone, leaving no trace of its passing.

 

Brent ran his hands through his sweaty hair.  “Stand down from battle stations,” he ordered, finally.  The tension in the compartment refused to face.  They had
known
that they were about to die, that all they could do was kick and scratch on the way to the gallows, and somehow they had been granted a reprieve.  “Now…what the hell was all that about?”

 

No one had an answer.

Chapter Twenty-Five

 

“And then they just vanished?”

 

Tabitha Cunningham would have refused to believe it, had it not been confirmed by multiple sources.  The War Cabinet had gathered to watch – they expected – Sparta’s last stand against the Killers.  Instead, the Killer starship had stared at the human settlements and then opened a wormhole, leaving the humans behind.  It was utterly out of character for the Killers; they came, they saw and they destroyed.  They never ran, they never fled from human defences…until now.

 

“Yes,” Brent said, shortly.  The Admiral looked relieved.  “They just left us alone.”

 

His voice tightened suddenly.  “It’s been seventy-two hours since they departed Sparta and, in that time, there had been no new attacks.  Their blitzkrieg against the Community seems to have been terminated.”

 

The President leaned forward.  “Terminated how?”  She demanded.  “Were they scared of us, or were they merely terminating their offensive anyway, even before we blew up one of their stars?”

 

“And were they actually trying to communicate?”  Father Sigmund put in.  “If we actually managed to bring them to the negotiation table, shouldn’t we be trying to follow up on the contact?”

 

“We’re uncertain,” Brent admitted.  His own voice hardened.  “If they were attempting to communicate, their communications systems were completely different to ours; if there were an intelligent signal in their emissions, we were unable to detect or understand it.  Their communications systems may be completely incompatible with our own.  We would have been able to talk to the Ghosts, if any were still alive, but the Killers are another story.  The bottom line is that we simply do not know.

 

“We also don’t know what they’re doing now,” he continued.  “Before their offensive began, we had starships tracking over five hundred of their vessels, keeping us updated on their movements.  Most of those ships either turned on their shadows and destroyed them, or opened wormholes and left their companions eating their dust.  We are currently only tracking a handful of their craft and we don’t know where the remainder have gone.  The only thing we can say with any certainty is that they’re not in any system we have under constant observation.”

 

“And so we have a pause in the storm,” Patti said.  The President looked grimly relieved; Tabitha rather felt for her.  She had been President herself during the early years following the destruction of Earth, but Patti had presided over the worst series of disasters in Community history.  The only bright side was that they had proof that the Killers were not invincible after all.  “I assume that you have issued orders to avoid further confrontation, if possible?”

 

“Perhaps,” Brent said.  “It may not be our choice.  The Killers generally decide if they want to open hostilities, or not.  The only real weapon we have is the supernova bomb and…well, stockpiles are limited.”

 

Tabitha nodded, keeping her expression blank.  The onrushing Killer offensive had neglected the argument in favour of keeping the weapon a secret while building up a massive stockpile and hitting every Killer star system at once, but the end results didn’t sit well with her.  They had slaughtered an entire star system and God alone knew how many Killers, but they had no way of knowing just how badly they’d hurt the Killers.  Had they taken out ten percent of their capability, one percent, point one percent…or what?  If the Killers had infested every gas giant in the Milky Way, they wouldn’t even notice the loss.

 

“We may have new weapons,” Administrator Arun Prabhu said.  The Technical Faction representative leaned forward, his dark features twisted with an unholy glee.  “The studies of the Killer starship – and the damaged starship recovered at the Cinder – have finally allowed us new insights into Killer technology and how to counter it.  We even know more about them, I believe, than any other race ever learned.  “We may even be able to equalise the odds a little.”

 

Tabitha sat up, seeing the same expressions on the other War Council members, those who chose to show their expressions.  “You have developed new weapons?”

 

“We have developed several new weapons,” Arun agreed.  “With your permission, I will summon two of my faction to brief you.”

 

A flicker of light announced the arrival of one of the Technical Faction.  Tabitha accessed the underlying stream of information from Intelligence and discovered that he was called Doctor Tony Jones, an expert in alien biology and one of the unsung heroes of the Eden Project, which had attempted to recreate plants and animals from Earth.  Tabitha wasn't too sure of how she felt about the project – it struck her as an exercise in futility – but she had to admit that it had had unusual results.  If humanity ever moved back to a planet-bound existence, they might be accompanied by neo-dogs, cats, horses and every other kind of lost animal.  Tabitha herself wouldn’t have gone back to a planet – although, as a personality in the MassMind, it wasn't possible to reincorporate herself – but she knew that millions of humans felt differently.

 

Tony Jones himself affected a baseline human appearance, marred only by the third eye set within his forehead.  Tabitha had never approved of the fashion for body modification – she hoped that it was merely the product of cosmetic surgery, rather than being sequenced into his genes – but the Community granted its people considerable freedom to warp themselves at will.  He wore a simple white lab tunic and long blonde hair, streaming all the way down to his ass.  That, too, was the dictates of current fashion.  They changed so rapidly in the material world.

 

“I have been directly involved with analysing the Killer remains found in the captured ship,” he began.  A hologram appeared in front of him as he spoke.  “The Killer entity – I am fairly sure that it was a single entity – was killed and badly disrupted in the boarding action, but enough remained for us to conduct a analysis.  The Killers are very definitely a very different race to us, or any other known intelligence species.  I believe that Doctor Handley’s theory that the Killers originated on a gas giant world is accurate…”

 

“That was proven by the attack on Cinder,” Brent put in, dryly.  “We saw them fleeing the gas giant world.”

 

“Yes, Admiral,” Jones agreed.  He cleared his throat and continued.  “The Killer entity is perhaps the most complex form of life we have studied, yet at the same time it is remarkably simple, almost as simple as a human being.  The Killer appeared to exist as a collection of discreet cells that were bonded together and merged with the technology onboard the vessel.  Our current theory is that they would be capable of floating within the atmosphere of a gas giant – in their natural form, they would be balanced on the planet’s atmosphere, to use laymen’s terms – and somehow they managed to obtain access to space.  We have various different computer models that suggest various different paths to high technology for them, but we have no idea – of course – which one they actually followed.  What is fairly clear is that they would have far higher tolerances for radiation and gravity than humanity.

 

“Their separate cells appeared to perform different tasks, although we have not unravelled what each of the cells was originally intended to do,” he said.  “We believe that the Killer intelligence is formed when enough of the cells come together to form a hive mind, suggesting that the Killers may both be individuals and part of an overall collective intelligence.  Some of the cells show what we believe to be memory storage material – a RNA analogue, perhaps – but we have been unable to figure out how to read it out.  It may be possible for a Killer mindset to exist within the MassMind – indeed; they may have blended their technology and biology far closer than humanity ever did, even the Spacers – and there is no real reason why they shouldn’t have one themselves.  I have a hunch, however, that they won’t have invented one; they’re effectively immortal.”

 

Tabitha frowned.  “They’re immortal?”

 

“We checked the age on some of the dead cells,” Jones confirmed.  “The youngest was well over a
million
years old.  I suspect that they actually repair or replenish themselves without the need for artificial aids; quite literally, they live on within their children, if children are the right term.  They may reproduce by asexual division rather than a more human-style method.”

 

His voice darkened.  “They may have other advantages over us,” he added.  “They should be, in theory, considerably more intelligent than humans, perhaps even capable of low-level telepathy.  I have a theory, however, that the Killer we killed had stagnated; it showed little reaction to the boarding party until it had been well and truly compromised.  I doubt that a Defence Force starship would have just ignored a team of Footsoldiers breaking into the ship.  My guess is that the Killer had never been boarded before and simply didn’t recognise the threat.  I don’t think that the other Killers will make the same mistake.”

 

“And they’re on a crusade to wipe out all other forms of life,” Brent said.  “I don’t suppose that you’ve unlocked that mystery?”

 

“No, Admiral,” Jones said.  “I have been unable to do a direct memory read from the Killer cells, so I have no idea what drives their determination to destroy all other forms of life.  I do think, however, that when they get an idea into their heads, it’s difficult for them to get rid of it.  In that respect, they are very much like humans.”

 

“Which leads to another question,” Brent said.  “How do we kill them?”

 

“Easily, if we could gain access to the Killer inside the ship,” Jones said.  “They’re actually considerably more vulnerable than humans in their natural form.  The trick is breaking through their technology, which is, I’m afraid, formidable.”

 

Arun chuckled as Jones faded out of existence.  “The research program into the Killer biology is ongoing,” he said.  “The technology, however…”

 

He made a grand gesture and Paula Handley materialised in the chamber.  Tabitha smiled, remembering the young Technical who had accompanied the Footsoldiers into the Killer starship and struck the fatal blow that killed the Killer, capturing the ship.  She looked tired – she’d probably had little sleep since being transferred to the Cinder, the star that had been blown up to harm the Killers – but surprisingly happy.  Tabitha could only hope that that meant that she had good news.

 

“My researches confirmed one suspicion many of us had held about the Killer technology from the start,” Paula said, without preamble.  “The Killers use gravity the way we use electricity; it powers their civilisation and provides the key to understanding their technology.  They may not have warp drive, or the Anderson Drive, but they possess a technology fully equal or superior to our own.  They simply never needed to discover other methods for themselves.”

 

She altered the display to show the captured Killer starship.  “The core power source of this craft was a tiny black hole – and tiny is the appropriate word,” she continued, as the display opened out to reveal what the researchers had discovered.  “The black hole was housed within the rear of the craft and kept under firm control by manipulation fields, preventing it from either expanding to consume the Killer starship or falling back into the quantum foam.  I believe that the Killers created the black hole by applying their gravity technology to the fabric of space itself and, once they had an active black hole, transferred it to one of their ships.  This may have been well over a thousand years ago.  The Killer starship’s age has been confirmed as well over a million years.  That one ship is older than all of human civilisation.

 

“That black hole provided enough power to actually warp the fabric of space itself.  Their wormholes were nothing more than them exerting enough pressure on space-time to form a link between two separate locations – we suspect that the power levels rise astronomically, if you’ll pardon the pun, the further away the destination – and this may explain why they have no known extra-galactic settlements.  Their more normal FTL drive is actually considerably
less
mundane; in simple terms, they actually lock onto the fabric of space and use it to pull themselves along.  The power requirements are actually considerably less than warp drive.  Given enough time, we could design a similar system and outfit our own starships with it.”

 

Her voice rose in enthusiasm as she continued.  “We haven’t solved all the mysteries – far from it – but we have made considerable progress.  Their indestructible hull material is actually rather clever, because it’s nothing of the sort.  Somehow, they use their power supplies to bind the molecules in their hull together, even against very heavy bombardment.  We might as well have been throwing rocks.  This explains the power surges the Defence Force recorded when they engaged various Killer craft –
and
why it was possible to delay the Killers.  They had to shift power from their drive to keep the hull intact.”

BOOK: Storming Heaven
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