Kali's Doom

by Craig Allen

  “Incoming signal!” The officer blinked as he stared at his screen. “It’s the Spicans, sir.”

  Interesting. The Spicans typically waited for their weekly communication. They weren’t exactly the talkative type, either because speaking was difficult for them or because they weren’t interested. Humans couldn’t communicate entire ideas with each other like the Spicans could.

  “Pipe it through, Lieutenant.”

  The lieutenant responded, “Aye, sir,” and opened the channel.

  A hollow voice echoed through the Tokugawa’s bridge. It sounded like a person who couldn’t hear their own voice or who had no idea what a human voice really sounded like. “Greetings. We are early in our communication but have monitored the situation and wish to discuss direct action against the dangerous planet.”

  Jericho tried not to groan, unsure how that natural human reaction would be interpreted by the Spicans’ translation system. “Direct action” for a Spican usually meant a violent response, which Jericho was not yet prepared for. The Reed Entity had warned humans about approaching the surface, and in return, humans insisted the Reed Entity turn over all technology, both stolen and copied. The fact that it—probably—had a hopper was bad, but he needed to run things by UEAF, who would then pass it on to some puzzle palace on Earth, who would in turn pass it on to an advisory board, who would pass it on to the congressional hearing committee, who would then pass it on to the UET council.

  Jericho absently wondered who the head of the UET council, the leading governing body of all human government, would pass on the problem to.

  “We—” Jericho was cut off by his comm officer.

  “Excuse me, Admiral, but we are receiving another comm signal. It’s the Hive.”

  Oh great. The fliers had been told not to use the comm system to contact the main bridge unless it was an emergency. This, of course, meant they used it whenever they damn well pleased.

  “Lieutenant Carlisle,” Jericho said. “Please tell the fliers—”

  “We will wait until the indigenous flying creatures have spoken to continue our deliberation.”

  Jericho was getting tired of being interrupted every time he opened his mouth, but the Spicans knew little of human manners. He assumed they wanted to listen to the fliers.

  Might as well. “Lieutenant, keep the channel open to the Spicans and open the channel to the fliers. We’ll have a three-way conversation, shall we?”

  “Yes, sir.” The lieutenant did as he was told.

  A flier appeared on the screen. The buzzardlike creature was the size of an old Earth pterodactyl and looked more like that than a buzzard, with the exception of the round head, which lacked a beak. The flier, appearing as a three-dimensional image on the main display for the bridge, had a stripe down the top of its head and thus had been given the unimaginative name of “Stripe.”

  “Yes, Stripe.” Jericho always felt strange using the odd name. “How may I help you?”

  We wish to see he who talks to us as we have found something odd in our home that will not be our home for long.

  Jericho frowned, trying to parse out the important parts of the sentence. “What sort of odd thing have you found?”

  A part of our ship is attacking us.

  Jericho blinked. “Are you all right?”

  Yes we are well thank you.

  “But you said you were being attacked. Can you describe the nature of the attack?”

  Part of the rock reaches for us if we get too close though we have been close to it before and it did nothing.

  Jericho wasn’t sure how to respond.

  We request to see he who speaks to us other than you.

  Jericho did his best not be offended. “I will have Dr. Brenner contact you as soon as possible. Good enough?”

  Yes that will be good we look forward to seeing him goodbye.

  The channel closed abruptly. Jericho started to speak again, only to get a response from the Spicans first.

  “We have noticed fluctuations in momentum regarding the station containing the indigenous flying creatures and suggest you examine the craft.”

  Jericho raised an eyebrow toward his sensor operator.

  “Sir, they’re right. Something is going on with the Hive.”

  The view on the screen showed Kali’s local sun, blotted out to avoid blinding them. Just on the other side, a small dot appeared. The view zoomed in, and the Hive came into view. Normally, it was stationed in the same orbit as Kali, but on the far side of the sun. The idea was to prevent the fliers from seeing their home world, given the shape it was in.

  But to Jericho’s surprise, the Hive shifted into a lower orbit as it accelerated. It wouldn’t be long before it was within range of Kali Prime.

  “What’s happening?” Jericho stood in front of the viewing globe. “Gravimetrics?”

  “Not reading any from the Hive, sir,” the sensor operator said. “There are no ships in that area that we can tell, but we can’t see on the far side of the sun anyway. And the probe we left there is not due for contact for another eight hours.”

  Jericho sighed. The probe they had left to monitor the Hive couldn’t send a signal through the sun, obviously. Thus, it would periodically maneuver itself into line of sight with the Tokugawa in order to communicate its readings, which required a crewman to go over those readings and report any anomalies. They couldn’t tell the probe to report early because the sun was in the way. Jericho wanted to place the probe at the local star’s apogee, but the higher-ups had insisted the probe be placed much closer to the station. They had been reluctant to allow even that.

  Jericho hated dealing with upper-echelon bullshit. At any rate, the Spicans were waiting for a response.

  “Yes, we see that,” Jericho said. “The Hive has altered its orbit somehow, but we don’t know how or why. Do you have any information on this?”

  “We do not and are confused by this event. We shall deliberate on the matter and contact you once more.”

  The comm channel closed, and Jericho somehow kept his mouth from falling open. Normally, the Spicans made blanket statements and waited for an affirmative or negative and the reasons why. But when they cut the channel altogether, that meant they had no idea what to do. Typically, Spicans preferred action over words, no matter how rash. But the events involving the Hive had confused them so much that they didn’t know how to act.

  “Contact the Olympus Mons,” Jericho said. “Relay this… conversation to them. I want them to escort Dr. Brenner to the Hive to see what the fliers want.”

  His subordinates murmured, “Yes, sir,” and went about their tasks.

  Jericho had a sick feeling in his stomach, like he’d had when first arriving in system. Nothing good would come out of what was about to happen. He could feel it.

  Chapter Three

  Cody sat in Sonja’s quarters, which she shared with a lieutenant currently on duty. They’d had their own quarters on the Tokugawa, but given the tight space on a destroyer, he assumed that wasn’t possible. He also assumed he would be sleeping on the hopper since they didn’t have quarters for him. He read through the text of the conversation the fliers had had with Admiral Jericho.

  “Any idea what the fliers want?” Sonja sat across from him at a small table just big enough for two.

  Cody shook his head and set the viewer down. “I’m pretty baffled by this one. The fliers didn’t give any information here I can use. As for the Spicans, it’s not like them to not act. Given what just happened, I’m surprised they didn’t suggest attacking the planet for violation of the agreement.”

  “They wouldn’t actually attack the fliers, would they?”

  “No, I doubt it. Not unless they thought the Hive was a threat.” He scratched his head. “They’re just deliberating, as they said. Strange.”

  The comm chimed in the room. “Dr. Brenner, we are approaching the Hive. Better get to the bridge.”

  “Yes, Commander.” When the comm closed, Cody looked at Son
ja. “You’re still my babysitter, right?”

  She sighed. “Not while you’re on the Hive.”

  “What?” Cody leaned back in his chair, his mouth open. “Why not?”

  Her shoulders sagged. “Commander Gaston is going with you. He’s never been there before. And he wants me to stay near the hopper, just in case.”

  Cody sighed. “I was hoping it would just be the two of us.”

  “Yeah, me too.”

  The comm chimed again. Before Cody could answer, Commander Gaston’s voice came on. “Doc, where the hell are you? We’re waiting here all day.”

  Sonja straightened in her chair. “On our way, sir.”

  She gestured at Cody urgently, and he followed her, still wishing they were going to the Hive together. We never do get a break, do we?

  ~~~

  Cody stood at the center of the tiny bridge, staring at the hologlobe, which displayed a view of the Hive. The structure had been found on the outer edge of the system. Consisting of circular lairs stacked on top of each other at irregular intervals, the entire alien structure looked almost like a beehive constructed by bees experimenting with hallucinogens.

  Soon, the Hive filled the hologlobe even though the image wasn’t being magnified.

  “Ten minutes to intercept,” Lieutenant Johnson announced.

  “Acknowledged.” Gaston did a double take at Sonja. “You’re a bit uptight, Ensign.”

  Sonja stood next to Cody, her hands clasped in front of her. “No, sir, I’m fine.”

  Gaston’s eyes narrowed. “Fresh out of OCS, and you start lying to a superior officer, eh?”

  “No, sir.” Sonja gritted her teeth. “Sorry, sir, it’s just—”

  Gaston burst out laughing. “Relax, young lady. I’m pulling your chain.”

  She forced a laugh. “I’m not all that young, sir.”

  Gaston had to have known how old Sonja was. Cody wondered what it must’ve been like back in the days before rejuv, when everyone’s age showed on their faces. Modern medicine had changed that. Sonja was over a hundred. She had children and even grandchildren.

  Cody was thankful Gaston didn’t mention her age or her children. Family was a touchy subject as her husband had been on one of the worlds hit by an ASEB, a weapon using Daedalus-engine technology to create an ion burst that blew the atmosphere off the planet. Several worlds had been lost that way until humans found a defense against it. As far as Cody knew, she hadn’t been with a man since. Not until him.

  “Ensign,” Gaston said, “some ships are different from others. In general, the bigger the crew, the stricter the discipline, but even then, there’s some leeway. I know what they teach in OCS. I was there too. It’s good to be disciplined until you know how things work on that ship.”

  “How do things work here, sir?” Sonja sounded genuinely curious.

  “When shit goes wrong, then maintain discipline.” Gaston shrugged. “Otherwise, relax a little.” He pointed a finger at her. “But not too much. Understand?”

  She smirked. “Yes, sir. I think I do.”

  “Five minutes,” Johnson said.

  The Hive’s surface became more distinct on the holoviewer. Sharp edges pointed out in many directions with no repeated patterns.

  “Weird.” Sonja stepped closer to the hologlobe. “What were they thinking when they made her?”

  “Whatever grog the Antediluvians had, I wish they’d left some samples behind.” Gaston snorted. “Maybe they didn’t care about design. It really doesn’t matter in the vacuum of space, anyway.”

  “She looks grown,” Cody said.

  “Organic?” Gaston asked.

  Cody nodded. “That’s what I think. Has anyone ever analyzed the surface?”

  “Probably.” Gaston held up his hands. “If they did, no one bothered to send the information our way.”

  “So if it’s grown,” Sonja asked, “then is it alive?”

  “That’s a good question.” Cody pondered it for a moment. “It moved of its own accord, assuming the fliers didn’t do it, which would seem to indicate it has a will of its own. And that’s not a good thing.”

  Gaston faced Cody. “Why do you say that, Doc?”

  “We don’t know much about the Antediluvians,” Cody said. “We know there were a dozen or so species that lived long ago. They’re all gone now, but they left behind artifacts. Their technology is so far above ours it looks like magic. This”—he pointed at the station—“has already demonstrated extraordinary capabilities. And yet we are letting the fliers live there.”

  “It was the biggest installation that could be found,” Sonja said. “That was in the debriefing, anyway.”

  “And its atmosphere adjusts itself to the species inside,” Gaston added. “That’s a hell of an advantage. We didn’t have to maintain an ecosystem for the fliers. That thing does it on its own.”

  “True, but we don’t know if this thing is dangerous or not.” Cody stared at the Hive as they approached. “If this thing is alive, we don’t know its motivations. It might have been designed to capture aliens or as a habitat for the species who built it. There are too many unknowns with Antediluvian tech. Any ancient artifacts are required by interstellar agreements to be handed over to local governments for analysis and containment, if necessary.”

  “This thing hasn’t been a problem for eight months,” Gaston said. “If it was going to be, it would’ve become one by now.”

  Cody couldn’t disagree with that, but the situation still made him worry. The last Antediluvian artifact they had found was a mining facility in the nearby globular cluster. Some ancient technology had stopped an entire neutron star’s spin, an astounding feat. How the Antediluvians had managed to do such a thing was unknown. It was downright unreal. Just like the Hive.

  The sharp edges became more distinct. Each protrusion was as smooth as glass. No features, no markings, and nothing that could be classified as writing. Most Antediluvian artifacts were the same way.

  “Why’d they bring it here?” Cody asked.

  Gaston shrugged. “It only took one tug to haul it from the outskirts of the system to here. Turns out the thing is sturdy but not very heavy.”

  “Yes, but how did it come to this star system?” Cody pointed at the Hive in the hologlobe. “It’s awfully convenient.”

  Gaston thought about it for a moment. “That’s an excellent point.”

  The Olympus Mons’s shadow covered part of the Hive as the ship moved closer to the docking port, called the nipple by most pilots. Cody didn’t think it looked like an actual nipple but didn’t question it.

  The ship touched the nipple and shuddered, then the gravity engines shut down.

  Johnson turned in his chair and faced Gaston. “Docking complete, sir.”

  “Very good.” Gaston stood. “You ready, Doc?”

  Sonja stepped forward. “We’re ready, sir.”

  Gaston eyed her for a moment. “We’re walking through the airlock into the Hive, Ensign. No need for a hopper.”

  “I realize that, sir. It’s just…” Her eyes darted back and forth. “Well…”

  Gaston grinned. “Try to come up with a good excuse, Ensign.”

  She glared at Cody, and he shrugged. He really wanted her along, but she wasn’t his bodyguard anymore. She was a pilot and had her own duties. Besides, he couldn’t come up with a decent excuse either.

  “Time’s up.” Gaston patted Sonja on the shoulder. “I’ll have him back in one piece, I promise.”

  Gaston left the bridge. Cody had just enough time to wink at Sonja before Gaston called out for him.

  “C’mon, Doc.” His voice echoed down the main corridor outside the bridge. “We got a bunch of buzzards to talk to.”

  ~~~

  “Check your suit,” Gaston said.

  Cody did so and gave a thumbs-up when he got a green light.

  The hatch dilated open, revealing a slick white tube that led away for a couple of meters until it ended in a wall. It con
formed to the Olympus Mons’s hatch perfectly, as if it were made to fit. The area was perfectly lit though Cody couldn’t find the source of illumination.

  Cody followed Gaston down the tube, running his fingers along the surface. He felt no friction, which he would have felt through the suit. It felt like ice, but they didn’t slip, as if the tunnel provided appropriate friction where necessary. Cody had visited the Hive almost a dozen times, and it amazed him each time.

  “Wonder what they were like?” Cody asked. “The ones who made this monstrosity, I mean.”

  “Alien,” Gaston said. “I’m staring at this material, and I have no idea what to make of it.”

  “Like cavemen with a handheld viewer,” Cody said.

  “And we’re the cavemen.”

  Gaston stopped at the end of the tube, and Cody joined him, holding his breath.

  The tube enveloped them. Cody was weightless, floating in darkness. He had a flashback to floating in space while the satellite exploded. Seconds later, the tube deposited him inside the Hive on a raised platform fifteen meters above the artificial ground.

  The surface and the “sky,” or what looked like a sky, was identical to Kali Prime prior to the Reed Entity’s alteration, probably because the Hive had examined the biology of the fliers. Cody’s suit read the same temperature and atmosphere of the planet before the Reed Entity’s changes. Even the magnetic waves ubiquitous throughout Kali Prime were present.

  Cody followed Gaston down a ramp that circled around them to the ground. Again, their shoes gripped the surface enough that he had no fear of slipping. At the bottom of the ramp sat a red shrub, rooted in the pseudo ground of the Hive.

  “That wasn’t there before.” Cody reached for it, but it didn’t react. “Those reddish plants on Kali always ran away when someone approached. I wonder if the Hive pulled the idea from the minds of the fliers somehow.”

  “The Hive reads our minds?” Gaston whistled. “I hope it doesn’t tell my ex-wife what I’m thinking.”