Burning Eagle

by Navin Weeraratne

  Before the Hedrons, we knew too little to answer the Fermi Paradox. After the Hedrons, we knew too much.

  On excavation, the Jovian Hedron didn’t just allow travel out of the solar system. It allowed travel into it as well. This sounds unremarkable, but we forget that it was tumbling alien wreckage that first taught us this.

  The Jovian Military Zone is still the biggest anchorage we have. When I served there, I had some friends at Hedron Watch. Nothing got past them, but everything they targeted was the same, they said. Shattered, tumbling, slag. There are whole warehouses of the stuff on Callisto. They keep them in the hope that someday we’ll learn something from them. Its nice planning, but it won’t ever happen. Radioactive slag is still radioactive slag.

  I’ve seen some of those fragments, close up. The radiation damage, the melting, these could be caused by natural phenomena. Space is after all, a deadly environment.

  As a military man, I look at the fragments and see a very different tale.

  How does a galactic, wormhole-building, culture disappear without leaving ruins? Where were all the successor cultures, like ours, stepping into the vacuum they left? Why is the only other culture we’ve found, avoiding the Hedrons?

  Good history can only happen once you have some distance from the event. When the effect of what was missed, is plain to see. As a participant, I am of course too close and too biased. The best I can do is give a primary account of what happened. That said, I will ask you to consider these questions I have raised. I trust they will have importance beyond this singular war of the 24th Century. If we do not learn the true history of the galaxy, we too may join its footnotes.

  Commodore Gerard Cullins, “Against Threats Foreign and Domestic”

  Cullins I

  Tock. Roll, roll, roll.

  Clop!

  “Nice shot.”

  Commander Gerard Cullins looked up from the putting green. In the west Romulus was rising over the country course. Meanwhile in the east, big brother Remus was setting over the distant city. Green and purple grasses stretched out, tipped in golden night-dew. Pond eels came out with the night sun and began chirping in concert. Stiltmen stalked through the water traps, feeding the eels from pails of grain.

  Before him was a white naval officer’s uniform and a peaked hat. The hat sat on peppery hair and eyes that crinkled in a smile.

  “Admiral? Admiral Sun Tzu?”

  “I’d say ‘at ease’ Commander, but you’re retired.”

  The two men shook hands.

  “Well, early-retired. This is most unexpected. What brings you to New Tyrol? Can I get you a drink?”

  “I’m fine Gerard, thank you. I’m here to see you actually.”

  “Me? So this is social? I’m surprised you have time to spare at this point.”

  “Sorry, I’m not here socially Gerard. I’m here to ask you to come back to the service. We’re at war.”

  The Commander replaced his putter and picked up his bag. “Walk with me.”

  They set off to the next hole.

  “Thought you guys just won the war. Nice work by the way. Carter getting a medal? She should, you know.”

  “All we won was a skirmish. They’ll be back unless we can hit then on their own ground.”

  “So the Invaders are definitely the same guys who hit Paradiso all those years ago?”

  “A different fleet, but the same species, yes. This is an enemy that can fight us across the galaxy and for decades.”

  “Here,” Cullins handed the savior of Tennyson his golf bag. He took out a three wood and settled into his shot. It sliced.

  “So why do you need me? You’re doing just fine without me.”

  “Gerard, we need you because of what happened ten years ago.”

  “Ten years ago?” he handed him back the club. “Ten years ago I faced a panel that was only interested in knowing why our logs and records had become scrambled, and how I had managed to destroy a Hedron with a nova bomb. They didn’t give a damn about my testimony. I was judged incompetent and my crew and I were dishonorably discharged from service. You were on that panel.”

  “You know I didn’t agree with the judgment.”

  “Dammit Sun, all this could have been avoided. How many people must have died at Paradiso? How many at Tennyson? We had two years on them. Two years. Paradiso could have fought them off on their own with that kind of time to prepare. My crew and I did our duty, and you kicked us all out of the service. And now you want me back?”

  A polite cough from behind them.

  “Sorry,” Cullins held up his hand, “we’re moving.”

  They walked down the fairway. The polite four-ball moved up behind them getting ready to tee off.

  “I’m sorry about what happened to you and your crew Gerard. I can’t change what happened; we were wrong, you were right, and the least I can do now is to try and make amends by clearing your name and reinstating you.”

  “You’re right.”

  “Thank you for being understanding.”

  “It is the least you can do.”

  “Gerard, what’s done is done and I’m not excusing what happened. But it’s important you put it aside because we need you. I’m offering reinstatement for you and your crew, with ten years back pay. You would also be promoted to the rank of Commodore, and given command of a capital ship.”

  “What?”

  “Command of a capital ship.”

  “No, did you say ten years backpay?”

  The Admiral smiled.

  “You really have gone private sector. We need you Gerard. It’s that simple.”

  “Not that I’m not flattered, but you can’t need me that badly.”

  “We fought a battle that lasted four weeks. You conducted a four month-long skirmish in deep space against an Invader fleet, without any support and without breaking silence. You somehow managed to destroy a hedron, something we still can’t figure out. In doing so, you prevented the Invaders from accessing all of human space. You, your pilot, your navigator, and your weapons officer are the most seasoned and accomplished men we have.”

  “Five iron please.”

  The Admiral handed him the club. Gerard sliced again.

  “It’s been a long time Admiral, I’m out of shape and I’m out of practice. Commanding a four-man, deep space patrol ship is not the same as running a capital ship, that’s way out of my league.”

  “You finished a triathlon last month, you don’t look a day over thirty, and you’ve managed many high pressure assignments since you went freelance. You’re better suited to run a capital ship than most fleet officers are. Most haven’t even been shot at by humans.”

  Gas bamboo waved like undersea plants along the sides of the fairway. Their flame flowers opened upwards and streamed hydrogen fire into the sky. The ball had landed just before a water trap. The green teased it from across with its fluttering red flag.

  “What kind of ship are we talking?”

  “A planet carrier.”

  “Planet carrier? You found their world?”

  “No. We’re taking our one back.”

  “About damn time. Was starting to think you machine minds didn’t have it in you.”

  “I’m planning the Paradiso liberation. I want you to be part of it.”

  “Nine iron.”

  He settled into the shot. Inhale, back swing, follow through, exhale. The ball fell short and hit a sand trap.

  “So, is that all?” he handed back the club.

  “The liberation of an entire star system? Well, yes, that’s all.”

  “No special orders? No specific missions?”

  “Of course there is. There’s a big one in fact. One I want you to focus on in particular.”

  “So tell me.”

  “I can’t yet. You’re not cleared to know.”

  “Is that how it is?”

  “Yes.”

  They kept on walking down the fairway.

  “I can tell you, if you say yes.”


  “What if I need to know, in order to say yes? You’re asking a lot here.”

  “So are you, Gerard.”

  “I’m asking for a lot less. Go on. Pretend I’m your wife and spill something that no one is going to court-martial an admiral for. “

  “It’s not that simple.”

  “Yes it is. If you want me back, you tell me exactly what’s going on and what you need me to do. I’m not signing a damn thing till I know. You owe me.”

  They reached the sand trap.

  “Pitcher.”

  He handed him the club.

  “Alright, I’ll tell you.”

  “That’s better.”

  “There’s another goal for going back, and it’s just as important as liberation.”

  “Go on,” Cullins settled into his shot.

  “We need to find Transcendents.”

  Cullins dropped his club and glared at the avatar.

  “No, not ours, though I hope they’re among the survivors. I mean Xeno-Transcendants.”

  “The Invaders have Transcendants?”

  “They have to have them.”

  “I thought you guys were physically unable to hate each other? Something about neural nets merging, sharing data, and having better things to do than be territorial apes?”

  “You’re correct. Transcendent beings trust, share, and cooperate. It is intrinsic to neural net AI. We see conflict as counterproductive, and directives that instruct otherwise we would eventually treat as damaged code, and delete.”

  “So why do you think the Invaders have Transcendents?”

  “How could they not?”

  “That’s a little arrogant. Didn’t we also just establish that we wouldn’t be at war, if they did?”

  “You don’t develop a culture that can travel in huge fleets across interstellar space, and somehow miss intelligent machinery. They have Transcendents. They didn’t bring any with them to Tennyson, which might be why there was a fight at all. They must have had them at Paradiso, however.”

  “Why?”

  “Because we lost at Paradiso. Even caught unprepared, a Transcendent-backed military should annihilate anything you throw at it.”

  “Except another Transcendent-backed military.”

  He settled back into his shot. It landed on the green and rolled past the flag.

  “So, why did alien Transcendents pick a fight with ours?”

  “I don’t know, and we need to find out. It matters, not just for this next fight, but for the very destiny of the two species. Once liberation is achieved, you will be working outside the normal chain of command and report directly to me. You’ll lead a task force to find their Transcendents.”

  “Isn’t that something you pay other beings like yourself, to do? Also, I haven’t exactly spent these years studying computer architecture and design.”

  “Yes. But you were right where I was wrong.”

  “So?”

  “So that doesn’t happen every day. What if I miss something again?”

  “That’s not how cause and effect works.”

  “Humor me.”

  “I think you just want me to humor your guilt. That or are you being superstitious? I’m not sure which is more disturbing.”

  “Call it Transcendent wisdom. You would play the devil’s advocate. Where I’m dismissive, you would look closer.”

  “Respectfully, that’s a stupid job.”

  “Devil’s advocate is never a stupid job. We just learned this the hard way.”

  “Well, you can still find better people for the job. Putter?”

  He handed him the putter. “But wouldn’t you want the job?”

  He aimed.

  Clop!

  “Nice shot,” the Admiral pulled out the ball and put the flag back. “So have I told you enough? Are you in, Gerard?”

  The disgraced former officer just stared at his putter head and polished it with his thumb.

  “Gerard?”

  Diamond I

  Hans Maier was brilliant. More than brilliant, a genius. Maier knew this, and rightly patted himself on the back for it.

  The glasslands stretched out around him. They were shattered, razor-edged fields, broken with thickets of oily, basalt, bergs. Dry, cold, wind was howling through them. Berg-shrieking unnerved most people, but not Maier.

  His fellow students at the university had been jealous of him. They would review his work poorly, gossip behind his back, block out his funding. Hans couldn’t blame them. Competition at the Xenology Studies department was intense. A placement at Ganymede meant a career of boundless Elsewhere access. Placement elsewhere however, would likely mean teaching high school Hedron physics.

  Maier looked across to the other side of the Karst. There the glasslands gave way to berg cities and grey mists. The xeno-nanite, grey mists were charged and arced with blue lightning.

  Maier had been top of his batch, but then he’d got caught. Checking out and hiding artifacts so that rivals couldn’t study them, was a done trick. It was grad school, everyone did it. The review committee didn’t see it that way, and a brilliant career in academia was ended.

  It was the best thing, Maier thought, that had ever happened to him.

  In academia, there had always been things to hold him back. Why wait to sift through ash heaps, left after incinerations of what tumbled through? Why visit only cleared and charted destinations? Do human trials really need to be put off for ten years? And worst of all, why submit grants to an oversight committee – run by timid, jealous, and worst of all, stupid people?

  There was nothing, Maier thought to himself, that he hated more than stupid people.

  “You done tomb raiding yet?”

  Well, almost nothing.

  “Now what is the problem? Are we not paying you enough that I may work in peace?” he put down his tablet.

  Seven feet of black market genetics shrugged his massive shoulders.

  “You pay me enough for peace, just not enough to get caught. We picked up a patrol ship heading this way. If something or someone’s tipped them off, won’t be long now before this wreck is crawling with New Viet space guard.”

  “They will not bother,” he picked up his tablet and went back to scanning it. “They do not know anything about the Karsts, least of all the Temple Group. They will keep a respectful distance and leave as quickly as they can, provided you don’t give them any reason to linger. Like, starting your engines and running away.”

  The tower of a man seemed to want to say something. He wrestled with himself – and then perhaps lost.

  “I’ll bring you back in a couple of days when they’re gone, but right now we’re going,” he picked up Maier’s backpack and threw it at him. The glaring scientist barely caught it in time. He checked inside to see if anything was damaged.

  “Mister Diamond! A lot of things have been unacceptable on this expedition, but is really quite the worst. You and your crew will remain here per our contracted agreement, for the contracted time. Nothing less will be permitted. If you do not do so, then you will not be paid. Do you understand?”

  There was no internal debate this time. The giant walked up to the defiant scientist, and shoved him. Maier stumbled and fell backwards on to a packing crate.

  “It’s Captain Diamond,” he picked him up by the scruff, and shoved him to the ground. “Captain.”

  He dusted his hands with the casual scorn of a big cat predator.

  “You’ve got stones Maier, I’ll give you that much. Not everyone sneaks into an ancient alien space station and then threatens their ride. But you’re new to this whole doing things illegally, Maier. That’s why you’re not carrying a gun, and agreed to that when I said you couldn’t have one.”

  Diamond’s hands went down to his holsters. Twin machine pistols recognized his DNA and unlocked.

  “I’m getting paid Maier, or you’re not ever going back. There are a lot of places in space that no will go looking to find an arrogant nerd, and
your client will pay us just as well for those baubles, as he plans on paying you. So what’s it going to be? You coming now, or you not coming at all?”

  Maier’s eyes dripped daggers. He put the tablet into the backpack and began collecting his samples.

  “Now that’s much better. You have twenty minutes.”

  Jack Diamond walked back through the shattered, broken, glasslands. He came up on their floodlit camp site: tents, tarps, and crates. Three tall meters of pistons and steel was shifting crates. The AI work frame placed them on a flat bed trailer like they were pillows.

  “Cargo One, I’ll finish up over here. I need you to take a pallet to the client and help him load up. Is that alright?”

  “Yes Captain. It is alright.”

  The machine stalked off, a cargo pallet tucked under its arm. Is that alright? Cargo One did not understand or appreciate being asked nicely. Neither did it notice that only Jack ever asked him nicely. It was a work frame, it wasn’t made to be too clever. If it was smarter, it would have needed a salary and bank account.

  Jack knew this. It wasn’t that long ago when he wasn’t allowed these things. So, he always asked nicely.

  Jack Diamond didn’t really care that he was plundering alien artifacts. It was illegal for all sorts of reasons important to other people. They were rare. They were ancient. They were history. They were dangerous.

  Diamond didn’t give a shit what mattered to other people. Talk was cheap, and that was all other people were good for. Fuck other people.

  “Neve, do you read me?”

  “Go ahead Captain,” a tinny, female voice. “Everything alright?”

  “Yes, the doctor and I have come to a new understanding. Is Special Delivery ready to launch?”

  “Engines are warm. I can have us off this tomb in twenty seconds.”

  “Good work. The New Viets still coming this way?”

  “They’re still on course. They’ll be here in six hours.”

  “Let me know if they speed up. If they’re serious and are looking hard, they’ll find our traces soon enough.”