Into the Darkness: Crimson Worlds Refugees I (28 page)

“Don’t worry, sir.” Her face softened, and she took a step closer to him. “I understand what is at stake, and I give you my word, sir…I will see it done. Whatever it takes.”

Compton nodded
. Yes, Erica…go now. Take six ships and 1,600 crew, and go die cleaning up my mistake
. He was wracked with guilt, but he forced himself to look up at her, to lock his eyes on hers.
She deserves that much from you, at least
.

She took a step back and snapped to attention, giving Compton a crisp salute. “With your permission, sir, I’d better be going.”

“Permission granted, Admiral West. And Godspeed.” He returned the salute, struggling to hold back his emotion.

*  *  *

“We’re fully refueled, Admiral.” Captain Horace’s voice came through the com, shaking Compton out of his daydream. He’d been thinking about West and her people, wondering how far they’d gotten in the day since they’d left. He knew her people would be buttoned up in the tanks, blasting their engines at 35g to catch up with Zhang…burning through the last of their dwindling fuel supplies. He’d known for decades there was no justice in war, but he’d never quite made peace with that fact. He doubted every crewmember on
Tang
and her companion ships had wanted to abandon their comrades. They were stuck there, common spacers with no control over what their commanders chose to do—but they would die just the same when West’s ships attacked. Just as her people faced a very uncertain prospect of survival, even if they won the fight.

‘Very good, Captain.” Compton felt guilty about refueling his own ship when so many others were worse off. The Alliance
Yorktowns
had massive storage facilities, but the three vessels were also the strongest in the fleet by far, and with no idea when the enemy might attack, he needed as much of his fighting power ready for whatever came next.

And if it comes down to abandoning the ships that haven’t refueled, you will do that too. And you will lie in your tank and feel Midway accelerate away while the vessels pushed to the rear of the refueling queue lag behind and die
.

“Commander Cortez, the refueling operation is to continue in accordance with the new prioritization.” It was simple. The stronger a ship was in a fight, the sooner it got fuel. Compton hated the concept, but he also knew he should have done it from the start. There was no place for egalitarian ideals, no decisions to be made by drawing straws or organizing things emotionally. If any of his people were to survive, he needed to be sharp, focused…and cold blooded.

He wondered if the crews on the ships pushed to the end of the line understood the logic of the plan. They had nothing to do but sit and wait, and watch their scanners to see if the enemy returned before they got their turn to refuel.

“Yes, Admiral. Current projections are approximately forty hours until completion of the operation. Commander Davies projects a further ninety-six hours for complete breakdown of the facility or forty to recover only the most critical equipment.

Compton just nodded. He’d already written off the entire refinery and all its equipment. He knew that would have long-term consequences—much of the gear would be hard to replace from the fleet’s dwindling stocks. But he knew he’d be lucky just to get his ships refueled and out of X18 before the enemy came back in even greater force. He couldn’t imagine how he could justify taking the risk of staying in place an extra four days to retrieve equipment, no matter how vital it was.

“Admiral, I have Colonel Preston on the com, sir.”

“Colonel,” Compton said, sliding his headset on as he did. “What’s your status?”

“The evacuation is complete, sir. The last wave has just reached orbit.”

“That’s good news, Colonel. I want to hear from you as soon as you’re back on
Midway
.”

“Yes, sir.”

Compton leaned back in his chair. He was relieved to have his people off planet four. He’d been beating himself up for authorizing the landing in the first place, his focus on the people he’d lost. The expedition had cost him forty-six Marines and eleven scientists and support personnel. Still, it hadn’t been a total loss. When he’d issued the final evacuation orders, many of the researchers argued, begging to stay, even without Marine protection. The planet was a treasure house, the greatest glimpse men had yet seen of the First Imperium as it had once been. The shuttles heading back to the fleet were stuffed full of artifacts, enough to keep every scientist in the fleet busy for years to come.

Compton found it hard to convince himself so costly an operation had been worthwhile simply to collect bits and pieces of ancient equipment. But he also realized it was the scientists who would save his people…or not. His job was to protect them, to get them what they needed—and to buy them time. Time to make the discoveries that would give the fleet a chance.

Just as Friederich Hofstader had saved human space from destruction, it was Hieronymus Cutter, Ana Zhukov, Sophie Barcomme—and their comrades—who held the fleet’s survival in their hands. Compton understood where the shred of hope for his people lay…and he was too old a warrior to fool himself into thinking he could do more than delay the end with pure military action.

Chapter Eighteen

Research Notes of Dr. Hieronymus Cutter

As I make this entry, I am standing in front of the intelligence that controls this immense vessel. Just looking at it, the vastness of its systems, the magnificence of its construction, is overwhelming. I have designed hundreds of computers, artificial intelligences at the cutting edge of human science…but I have never seen anything remotely like this. I can recognize components only in the most theoretical way, as if I were writing a futuristic tale and trying to imagine what a computer would look like in a thousand years.

I am scared, so profoundly terrified, I can hardly describe it adequately. I have nothing but respect for the Marines, and the other warriors who place themselves in the path of the enemy again and again. I’m afraid my background is in academia, where nasty rebuttals from colleagues are the greatest hazard. But the emergence of the First Imperium has changed all our roles. This is not a war where the loser will be stripped of worlds, of wealth. It is a conflict for the very survival of our race. And for that, each of us must find courage in our own way. My strength comes from curiosity, and my thirst for knowledge is so powerful it keeps my fear in check.

I feel like I have stepped forward in time, been given a glimpse of the future, of what my work—and that of generations of my successors—might have produced. But it is not a dream. This amazing system lies before me, and my skill will be put to the test. Can I really control this intelligence that is so far ahead of anything I have seen? Is it merely my own arrogance that says I can? Can I even understand a system so complex, so far in advanced of my own knowledge?

We use the term sentience often…and carelessly. I’m not even sure we know what it means. But this intelligence almost certainly meets most generally-accepted definitions. Can it feel emotion? I don’t know. What does it mean to “feel” something anyway? Almost certainly this intelligence can understand emotion, construct responses to emotional behavior. But does it make decisions based on emotional responses? If so, how does it balance between responses based on anger and others rooted in rationality?

If I proceed, if my virus fails—or if I am unable to direct the intelligence to shut down all external communications before it receives any messages—we will die. Our deaths, here in this massive at least, will be quick. But if we fail everyone will die. Admiral Compton knows it. He is a military genius, but he is fully aware he has no chance of gaining final victory in battle. Even if the fleet moves on from X18, through this X20 system, our route takes us through the heart of the enemy domains…into the teeth of strength we cannot imagine.

I was determined to proceed with my plan as we approached the enemy ship. I know my virus, however remote the chances of its success, is our best hope. But now, standing here on the precipice, I find it is taking all my resolve to move forward. I wish the admiral were here. I need his strength.

First Imperium Colossus

System X20– High Orbit Around Planet IV

The Fleet:  202 ships, 44,711 crew

“It’s the same as the one on Sigmund,” Cutter said softly. “It must be some kind of standard data port for First Imperium systems.”

“That’s a break.” Ana stood right behind Cutter, peering around his shoulder, staring at the workstation. “We can use the adapter we already built.”

Cutter looked over to his right, at the cluster of his people crowded around a portable reactor. “Have you connected to the system’s main power conduit?”
At least you hope that’s the main conduit. It’s really no better than a good guess
.

“Yes, we’re connected.” Hans Darlton didn’t sound terribly confident.

“You don’t sound so sure,” Cutter replied.

“I’m sure,” Darlton snapped. “It’s just…we’re moving awfully quickly here, aren’t we? Recklessly even.”

Cutter sighed softly to himself. Darlton was a pain in the ass, there was no question about that. But he knew the rest of them felt the same way. They were researchers, creatures of academia. If there was one thing they weren’t used to, it was time pressure. Cutter had been no different. He’d always worked to prove any theory, to repeatedly test every new process he developed. But he’d adapted to his new reality, and he continually chafed at the inability of most of his people to do the same. It was a simple concept…when you were in a fight to the death against homicidal robots centuries ahead of you in technology, laboratory protocols went out the window. He couldn’t understand what the other didn’t understand about that.

“Well, Hans, ideally, I’d like a lot more time to experiment. I’d like to scan this thing about a hundred different ways and program some simulations before we even touch it. But I don’t think we have that luxury now, do you? If we’re lucky enough to get the fleet refueled and out of X18, it’s going to move right past this ship…and leave it behind forever. And it’s not like
Midway
can tow something that’s almost 19 klicks long.”

The impracticality of scientists drove him crazy. Cutter fit a lot of stereotypes. He was introverted, more interested in his work than anything else—but he was a realist too. He could adjust to the situation at hand and do what had to be done, break out from stereotypes. He would pursue knowledge wherever it led.

Unlike this pack of doctrinaire followers…

Darlton just nodded. Cutter knew the pompous ass hated to admit he was wrong, and the grudging gesture was the most he was likely to get.

“Now, if there are no other arguments, let’s do this.” Cutter sat down in the chair. He held a small data chip and a section of cable. There was a fitting for the chip on one end, and a plug designed to fit in the First Imperium data port on the other. He put the chip into its place, and he slid the device into the port on the workstation.

“Now, in a minute, we’re going to start feeding in power—very slowly at first.” Cutter had no idea how to start the ship’s reactors, if that was even possible. Not that he would do it even if he could. It was one thing to activate an extremely advanced artificial intelligence and quite another to have it in control of a fully-powered spaceship. Ideally, he would be able to communicate with the intelligence, but if his efforts to control it failed, it would be impotent, able only to communicate and not to strike at them.

The portable unit could power the artificial intelligence, he was sure of that, but it didn’t have anywhere near enough output to activate the ship’s other systems. It was a much safer way to proceed, assuming the intelligence itself wasn’t able to simply start the ship’s matter/antimatter reactor as soon as it resumed operations. It was one thing to try to communicate with an artificial intelligence and another entirely to deal with one in full control of a gargantuan warship. But that was a risk they’d have to take.

Cutter was working on the hypothesis that the intelligence had been deactivated by a loss of power and not a more complex malfunction. But that was only a guess. For all he knew, there could be extensive damage—and if that was the case, he’d have to find and repair any problems in the system’s circuitry.
And I might as well be a child taking apart a spaceship…

“Start the reactor,” Cutter said softly, his eyes focused on the spherical brain of the great computer.

Darlton just nodded, and he looked down at the ‘pad in his hand, swiping his finger across. There was a brief delay, perhaps five seconds, and then a bank of lights on the portable reactor lit up. They all knew what was happening deep inside the heavily-shielded device. Over a thousand tiny lasers fired as one, their beams intersecting at a single point, where the massive heat they created sparked a controlled fusion reaction. Within a few seconds, the system was live…and power was flowing into the conduit.

“Okay…let’s start feeding in power. Two percent to start.” He took a deep breath. He was well aware it was a longshot that the ancient system would simply power up, but it was something he had to try. It was a daunting enough prospect to take control of the intelligence with his virus, but the prospect of trying to repair a device he couldn’t begin to truly understand was overwhelming.
It would take years, if we can do it at all. And we don’t have years…

Nothing happened…for perhaps thirty seconds. The ancient computer was idle, cold, as it had been for almost 500,000 years. Cutter heard Ana sigh softly. They’d both known the odds were against them, that a quick success was a vanishingly unlikely prospect.

Cutter started to turn toward her, but he froze. His eyes caught a glimpse, a faint light deep within the sphere. He felt his stomach twist into a knot as he watched in awe as the illumination grew brighter…and spread throughout the globe.