“Fine, then we can’t destroy the planet,” Scott said. “What could we do with it?”
Frowning, Cunningham asked, “The power stores.”
“They’ll have a lot of redundancy,” Rochford replied. “Probably…”
“No, sir, that’s not what I had in mind. How much power would a planet-sized computer need to operate at maximum capacity? Probably a considerable fraction of the output of the Dyson swarm, and how much could they ever store, even if they’re using half the planet as a battery? I’m sure they could manage in the event of a temporary shutdown, but for how long?”
“They’ve got three reflectors, Lieutenant, and I can see three more that are obviously redundant units. It’s a nice idea, but we’d need the reflectors to create the black hole in the first place.” Rochford frowned, then said, “Perhaps we could lob a couple at the shipyard, but the same problems apply that we came up with before. We need an immediate fix, not something that would take decades to play out.”
“That’s just it, sir,” Cunningham said. “There’s another answer. I think we can take out the Dyson Swarm.”
“What?” Scott asked, walking over to the helm.
“I’ve looked at the powersats, sir, and they’re pretty damn simple. I suppose they must have to replace them quite often, though one at a time. Just a solar array and a small thruster complex. There are lots of them, about a hundred million, all on fixed orbits. None of them have moved at all since we arrived in the system. Not even station keeping.”
Nodding, Watson said, “They’ll have calculated their courses to perfection, Ensign.”
“And if we throw a black hole or two into the network? Those satellites are small, and the black hole is bound to influence their orbits if it doesn’t actually destroy them.” With a triumphant smile, he added, “The cascade will cause a Kessler event, sir, on a scale I can hardly imagine. Enough to wreck any chance of putting any new satellites into that orbit for years, even if they manage to sweep it clean. Given time, they might be able to stop it, but…”
“How much time could they possibly have,” Scott said, nodding. “Can we calculate that?”
“A best guess would give them less than half an hour, Admiral,” Watson said. “Perhaps considerably less. There must be a means by which they could counter this, though. It beggars belief that they would permit a weakness of this type to exist in their system. Why, interstellar asteroids must pass through often enough.”
“On predictable courses with plenty of notice,” Cunningham pressed. “We’re the wild card, and if they only inherited this technology, they might not be aware of the consequences. As a fringe benefit, the surface of the planet below would be hammered by the debris cloud, as would any ship still stuck in the system. We’re talking days, sir, at most, before the network is destroyed. Perhaps less.”
“A lot less, given the speed at which the black hole will be flying,” Rochford said. “And the distortions will throw the network into chaos, even before the inevitable collisions. There’s probably a good reason a lot of advanced civilizations don’t use these swarms. They’re vulnerable as hell to the right kind of weapon.” He paused, then said, “Ensign, can you work out the optimum firing time?”
“I think so, sir,” Cunningham replied. “Back of the envelope guesswork puts us at forty-nine minutes from now, but I’ll have to work out the exact time of impact. We should be able to make the shot from our current location. We won’t have to move at all.” He paused, then said, “There’s always the chance that they’ve already thought of this, sir. For all I know, there could be safeguards built into the system to prevent this from happening, but I can’t see any sign of them. Those satellites are pretty primitive.”
“They might never have thought anyone could have entered their system,” Rochford said. “Though if it came to it, I’m surprised they didn’t stop us cold.” He looked up at the screen, and said, “I can’t think of any other way, sir, though I confess this seems like a long shot.”
“What about an escape vector?” Chen asked. He turned to Scott, and said, “We might actually have a chance of getting out of here in one piece, sir. The wormhole isn’t that far away.”
“There are a dozen enemy ships between us and the exit point, Lieutenant, but I agree that it’s worth a try.” Turning to Cunningham, Scott said, “You realize that you might just have found a way of saving trillions of lives, helm?”
“I’ve got to make it work yet, sir. Anything could go wrong, and we might have any one of a thousand unpredictable consequences to worry about. They might be able to shut down the grid, or…”
Raising his hand, Scott said, “Regardless, I’m giving you a field promotion to Lieutenant, effective immediately. Whether it works out or not, it’s a damn good idea.” Turning to Watson, he asked, “Level with me, Professor. What sort of a chance does this have?”
“If everything works as we believe, if the technology and the science match our current projections and expectations, then we have every reason to expect that the black hole will behave in exactly the way we wish, with the effects we want to create. Certainly, the theory behind the Kessler effect is solid enough. It’s a good plan, but what we don’t know, of course, is what the Exterminators will do in their attempts to counter it.”
“That’s true enough of any sort of war, Professor.” He looked around the room, then said, “Unless someone comes up with a better idea, we’re going with Lieutenant Cunningham’s plan.”
“God help us,” Rochford said, shaking his head.
“I hope so,” Scott replied. “We’re going to need all the help we can get to pull this one off.”
“And if they try and stop us?” Chen asked.
“Then we go down all guns blazing, Lieutenant, and we give them a battle they’ll not soon forget.”
Chapter 19
“There’s no answer, is there,” Silva said, looking at the statue of a tall, one-eyed being, seeming to glare down at her. “There’s no way to convince them to change their minds.” Taking a deep breath, she added, “I guess we’re going to end up as just another exhibit in a museum nobody ever visits.”
“We will remember you,” Joe replied. “And should you wish, we will give you sanctuary in our home system, assuming the Exterminators permit your ship to depart in peace. We would provide you with a place of your own, perhaps an asteroid, tailored to your requirements, in exchange for sharing your viewpoint on the universe. It is even possible that you could be integrated into our mental network, given time.”
“I appreciate your offer, Joe, but even if I thought the Exterminators would accept it, I don’t see how we could. Our place is at home, and I think we’d rather die with our people,” Novak said. “Besides, I wouldn’t want to draw you into a war. They’re right about one thing. If any part of humanity was left alive after the destruction of Earth, they wouldn’t rest until they had sought revenge.”
“Then they would be creating the very behavior they purport to abhor,” Joe said, shaking his head. “I find their attitudes perplexing, to say the least. We have benefitted greatly from our contacts with other forms of life, learned new ways of perceiving the wonders of creation, the wonders of the universe itself, that we would never have enjoyed without such communications.”
“You had the wisdom and the maturity to use it well,” the voice replied, the overhead lights shining brightly once more. “Many have neither, nor have they the opportunity to develop to their potential. Besides, you were influenced yourselves by the contacts your race had in its infancy, even if you have no current awareness of that fact. It changed you from what you might have been into your current form.”
“We are well pleased with our people in that form,” Joe replied. “And it is arrogance on your part to believe that you know my people better than we know ourselves, after millions of years of effort in that arena.”
“Perhaps we are guilty of such a crime. Nevertheless, we have saved hundreds of thousands of intellige
nt life-forms to live and grow as they should, to find their own path in the cosmos rather than have one imposed upon them without their will.”
Novak took a step forward, and said, “No. I indict you for murder, for genocide, not merely of the races you have destroyed directly, but those you have caused to die as a result of your inaction.”
“Make your argument, Commander, and we will listen.”
“I take as my first example the xenophobic race we encountered on our flight out here. You may claim that they have been contaminated by the Folk, but only in the same manner as the One were contaminated by your ancestors, so far back in time that only a few legends and ancient stories remain. They are destroying themselves, destroying their world, out of ignorance of the technologies that could save them.”
“You offered to provide them with the help that might have saved them. They refused. It is one of the two gateways through which all intelligent life-forms must pass if they are to begin to truly mature, the mastery of their animal instincts, their desire for self-immolation. Only after such tendencies are mastered might they become fit members of galactic society. You would short-cut that necessary step.”
“A step that leads to the destruction of how many peoples, how many worlds?” Novak asked. “You have the ability to help, to show the younger races a path to peace, to prosperity, to the chance to find perfection in their own way. Instead you swing your swords, burning your way to what you deem the proper path, annihilating anything that dared to stand in your path. Who watches the watchmen? Who watches you?”
There was a long pause, and the voice replied, “These are old arguments. No life-form has an inherent right to live. Their existence is a cosmic gift, and…”
“And it should be fostered and nurtured, not permitted to fade into nonexistence, its potential unrealized. We would not permit a child to make its way alone until we had taught it what it needs to know in order to survive, to thrive. In this context, the younger species are little but children…”
“Such arrogance,” the voice said, “to think that you know better than those who must make the choice.”
“Many are not even aware that there is such a choice!” Silva said.
“Perhaps that is so, but every civilization that has passed the test did so on their own, and gained the wisdom they needed to equip themselves for the future they wished to build. It is perhaps best that some faltered along the way. Had they failed to learn in the cradle, the terror they might unleash upon the galaxy is too terrible to contemplate. The wars that were waged by our ancestors almost wiped out all life in the galaxy. Next time, they might succeed.”
“The sins of the fathers brought to the children?” Novak asked. “What about those struck down by cosmic disaster, by accident? What of them? You’ve held the galaxy back from contact, from communication. Yes, there is always a chance of a new empire rising again, but what if that was not so, what if there was a chance that something better, something different might spread across the stars. Instead of simply annihilating all life forms that fail to conform to the patterns you consider safe, why not seek to warn those who rise from their worlds of the lessons and mistakes of the past?”
“Words are rarely sufficient,” the voice replied. “And there are those who would seek out our technology, use it to conquer. We cannot take the risk…”
“Your creators were the children of the galactic wars,” Belinsky replied. “Are you not concerned that the fact that your originators were traumatized by the death of their races might have affected your own instincts in ways you cannot truly perceive? They suffered unbelievable agonies, and those agonies gave birth to the ships that have continued the fighting, on and on, endlessly through the eons. You’re still fighting the same war. It never ended. Not as long as your ships continue to sail the stars, seeking new worlds to destroy in the supposed pursuit of peace.”
“What choice have we, if we are to prevent the horrors from coming back again? A few must be sacrificed for the good of the many. That is the only choice that makes sense…”
“Except that by your own definition,” Novak retorted, “you are sacrificing the many for the few, the few that manage to both pass through the filters that you demand they survive and have the correct, isolationist instincts you seek. How many civilizations falter? What proportion do not meet your ideal of the perfect species, matched to your template.” Her eyes raged, and she added, “You have become the very thing you claim to hate!”
Joe nodded, and said, “Through a process of selective genocide, you have purged all who disagree with your philosophies from the galaxy. Permit me to suggest that this is far from an enlightened approach to pursue. How many races have witnessed your acts of destruction from afar and elected to remain in their home systems, not out of the wish to experience the joys of home, but out of fear for what lies beyond.”
“The xenophobes are another example,” Silva said. “Their legends tell of your presence. Perhaps you did not destroy their original homeworld, but they have stories that describe you suspiciously well, and they’ve dedicated their whole civilization to the fear of outsiders as a result. Either they will destroy themselves in a generation, or they will leap across the stars in a holy war. More death. More murder. On and on, for all time, and because of you!”
“How many other races have the same story,” Belinsky said. “The Folk were not an evil people, they sought no conquest, had no urge to make war on their brothers. When they contacted other civilizations it was with friendship, with joy, with wonder that they had fellows to experience the wonder of space with. Given time, time that you would not permit them, they might have built precisely the type of galactic civilization that you would have admired.”
“All life is risk,” Novak said. “Perhaps there will be another war. Perhaps great galactic powers will rise once more, soaring into the heavens, and sweep all before them with bloodshed and fear, but perhaps the circumstances behind those wars are gone, are past, and will be no more. Perhaps the races of humanity, led by those who have developed the maturity of which you speak, will join hands as one across the galaxy for the mutual betterment of all. You might lead this move, might pioneer the path towards a new and brighter future for all life, everywhere.”
“The bloody history of your race suggests otherwise,” the voice replied. “Always it is war, conquest, fire. You had not even truly unified your people before advancing into space, not even when you reached out to the stars. You have fought wars within living memory, your Admiral the leader in one such. Your ships bristle with weapons of destruction…”
“Can you truly blame them, when they face such as you?” Joe asked. “We have defended the entrances to our system, passages that you created for your own end. Passages that you have renewed within the last fifty thousand years. Surely you could simply allow the wormholes to fade into uselessness, to pass out of history. Few civilizations would ever develop them by themselves, would instead be forced to slowly pass from star to star, taking decades or centuries for the trip. No wars of conquest would be possible if starflight was a generational task.”
“The wormholes are necessary to permit our ships to watch those who cannot defend themselves. Would it interest you to know, Commander, that over the last twenty thousand years we have destroyed two civilizations within a hundred light-years of your Earth, both of whom were expansionist, who would have conquered and enslaved your people if they had been permitted to do so?”
“You could have stopped them without exterminating them,” Silva protested. “If you must keep the peace, then why should every crime be punishable by death? You could guard the civilized worlds with your ship, a galactic policeman, perhaps. Genocide is not necessary.”
“Oh, it is,” Novak said. “Once they’ve got blood on their hands once, it never comes off. Any civilization learning of the threat they face will arm themselves, will prepare for the challenge of the greatest filter of all, the greatest barrier to a true interstellar civilizat
ion, the ghosts of warriors fighting a war that ended eons ago.”
“That is possible, and one reason why…”
“That is more than possible. That is certain. You’re scared, down to the depths of whatever passes for your soul, scared that somehow, someday, you will be defeated, that the worldview that is all you know will be cast down. Sooner or later you’re going to run up against your match. It might not be humanity, perhaps, but some civilization will have an edge that you can’t counter, one that you can’t defeat, and your ships will burn, one by one, as we have burned them ourselves this past year.”
“Come to Earth,” she said, fire in her eyes. “Come and see what you have wrought, what you have forced us to become once more. We had given up the sword, but you’ve made us take it up again, wield it as we once did, build ships of war and great weapons to blot your ships out of the sky. Don’t write us out yet. We’ve beaten your fleets twice, and we may beat them again, fight a war like one you knew, a war across the whole galaxy with the only goal your elimination from existence. We’ll find allies everywhere.”
Nodding, Belinsky added, “Given what we are planning, the xenophobes would almost certainly fight by our side. Any civilization we encountered would gladly join our crusade, with the knowledge that either death or isolation were the rewards of defeat. Within a decade, we’d have hundreds of civilizations fighting in our alliance, thousands soon after, until billions of ships are arrayed against you.” Gesturing to Joe, he added, “How many cultures that have remained in their home systems will be roused to the fight, simply to correct the wrongs you have done, the injustice of your genocide. None of us are safe while you live, and we will not suffer you to live any longer!”
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