Burning Eagle

by Navin Weeraratne

  “Perhaps it is trying to break the walls protecting our low level AIs?” said the doctor.

  Cullins darkened. “Low level AIs are our only option for putting boots back on the ground again, quickly. Precisely because that option is so high risk, there are a lot of safeguards making it impractical for an enemy to exploit.”

  “Yes Commodore,” Jovanka nodded, “but there is a Tornado Brain out there. It is quite literally thinking up a storm. What else is as aggressively protected?”

  “Nano-Immunity. If it could circumvent those, it could render us down to gas and powder. We did it to them at Tennyson.”

  “These are both possibilities. I would also suggest, assimilation of data.”

  “What is it assimilating?”

  “To fight Sun Tzu on this level, is also to consume him. It has taken data, and is may be attempting to make sense of it. This could simply be sort and storing. Or it could be jumpstarting its own technology with the finest, Union, military secrets.”

  “Sir,” Viegas cleared his throat, “Respectfully, whatever it is thinking about, it can’t be good for us.”

  “Agreed, Mr Viegas. But there’s one last question I have to know the answer to. Why,” he pointed athte screen, “is it doing its thinking, staring down our guns? It didn’t need to come here.”

  A pause.

  “Sir, it is a considerable weapon in its own right,” said Viegas. “It would be highly effective against our ground troops. Kashi is our last hold out on the planet.”

  “It’s throwing thousands of insurgents against Kashi, as we speak. And yet, it still comes itself. Immediately. What is so important about Kashi, that it can’t wait? That it must even risk itself?”

  “This does not pertain to Artificial Intelligence,” said Jovanka. “But tactics.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I am sure. And I believe you already have answer ready, in that case.”

  “I do,” nodded Cullins. “Somewhere at Kashi is its weakness.”

  “Sir,” said Viegas, “That could be why the troops in the city weren’t bombarded from space. Maybe it couldn’t risk the damage.”

  “Indeed. I think we’ve just made a breakthrough.”

  “There are other questions that I think you should consider, Commodore,” said Jovanka.

  “Such as?”

  “Whether or not this is the entire Xeno Transcedent.”

  “But this is all of them. All the insects, all their swarms.”

  “Our own Transcendents exist scattered across worlds and even stars. They span a range of media and have excessive redundancies. The Xeno-Transcendent must have insurance. We will not have a real chance at defeating it, till we learn what that is.”

  “Sir, Swarm Foxtrot has merged with the event. Windspeed up to three hundred and twenty kilometers an hour.”

  “Alright everyone, that’s our cue. Mr Viegas, instruct destroyer group Columbus that we are engaging the target. I want them to position directly over the target area, and to standby to conduct a bomb damage assessment.”

  “Yes Sir.”

  “Also, contact Damocles. Tell them to prepare to assist with secondary bombardment.”

  “Despatching orders now.”

  “Air Support?”

  “Air Support, standing by,” the holo of Commander Vaughn appeared in the air.

  “Do you have any assets in the area?”

  “Just a combat air patrol, Sir. They’re keeping clear of the tornado.”

  “Get them at least twenty kilometers from the target area.”

  “Affirmative.”

  “Lieutenant Grimes?” he looked over to a pale officer stationed opposite Viegas.

  “Strategic Weapons,” he sat up straighter. “Standing by.”

  “Lieutenant Grimes, use of nuclear weapons is authorized. The heart of the swarm is your target. I want two strikes, ten kilotons a piece. I need detonations as close to the ground as you can manage.”

  “Confirming Sir: two nuclear strikes, ten kiloton warheads. Detonation will be one hundred meters above ground level.”

  “Excellent.”

  “Coordinates loaded. Nukes are live Sir, launching on your mark.”

  Jovanka’s brow was furrowed. “Surely a single nuclear device is sufficient?”

  “It’s the only way to sure. Grimes?”

  “Standing by.”

  “Fire.”

  Two missiles burned down towards the continent.

  Each was the size of a large car, vanes and fins optimized for stealth and coated against radar. They each carried two devices. One was a plutonium kickstarter, a dirty fission bomb that would light the match. The second was a drum packed with radioactive, heavy hydrogen –the bomb proper. They dropped away from the planet carrier and their rocket motors fired. These kicked them up several times faster than sound, and burned out in seconds.

  The missiles coasted in.

  At precisely one hundred meters above the ground, they detonated. A herd of wild, starving cows looked up. The image of twin fireballs was burned into their eyes forever. Five kilometers from ground zero, a colony of rare, indigenous lizards were smeared into atoms. A six kilometer mushroom cloud tore up into the sky, at three times the speed of sound. It caught a pair of hawks, their burning feathers trailed fire like comets. Leaves folded and blooms shut as false-evening spread across the continent.

  “Confirming detonations one and two, Sir.”

  “Thank you Mr. Grimes. Mr Viegas?”

  “Sir.”

  “Tell destroyer group Columbus to start bomb damage assessment.”

  “Yes, Sir. Sir, Columbus reports radiation and fallout are making it hard to determine anything at this point.”

  “That’s alright. We can wait.”

  Instruments hummed. Cullins could hear the ticking of his watch.

  “Commodore,” Viegas frowned at his display, “I’m detecting an unusual energy reading. It’s coming from from Kashi, from its lake.”

  “Do you have a visual?”

  “Negative.”

  “Air Support?”

  “Air Support standing by, Commodore.”

  “Commander Vaughn, can you get your air patrol do a flyby and get me a visual on the lake?”

  “Copy that.”

  “Commodore,” Viegas’ face was lit up suddenly by his display. “The energy reading just spiked – two hundred gigawatts!”

  “What?”

  Three icons winked out on the tactical display.

  “Sir,” another officer called out from her station, “I’ve lost group Columbus from radar.”

  “Launch countermeasures! All hands brace for emergency descent! Helm, drop us down to two hundred meters!”

  The planet carrier dropped like a stone.

  “Damage Control?”

  “No damage to report, Sir. All systems green.”

  “Sickbay?”

  Doctor Wright’s holo appeared distracted. “We’ve got reports of some serious injuries from the descent. I’ve sent out the response teams.”

  “Sir, confirming destruction of destroyer group Columbus,” said Viegas. “Battle Station Damocles reports they are seeding countermeasures, and burning for high orbit.”

  “Helm, get us down to a hundred meters –gently. Counter Measures?”

  “Standing by.”

  “Drop an ECM smart cloud around us, five kilometers wide.”

  “Understood, venting all remaining ECM canisters.”

  “Sir, another energy spike. It’s,” Viegas stopped, and checked the screen again. “That was eight hundred gigawatts!”

  “Target?”

  Viegas shook his head.

  “Damn it, we need to know the target. Communications, can you raise Damocles Station?”

  “Sir,” his face was grim, “Sir Damocles is not responding.”

  “Bastards! How can they fire a weapon that powerful, in atmosphere? Main Weapons, Mr. Franklin, can we match that?”

&
nbsp; “Negative, Sir. The main guns are designed only for use in space. Even if we dial them down, the backwash from the atomized air will wreck them. It could even damage the ship.”

  “Air Support here – the CAP has a visual.”

  “On main display!”

  It was shrouded in immense banks of steam. Rapids tumbled from in thundering waterfalls. Whole schools of fish glittered as they flopped, choked, and cooked.

  Muttering broke out, looks were exchanged.

  “What the hell is that?” said Viegas.

  It rose slowly over the lake.

  “It’s a planet carrier,” said Cullins quietly. “And I fought it once before.”

  Terms and Conditions

  “You have done the Alliance a great service, Director,” said the alien. “We are in debt to you and your team here at Human Affairs.”

  Director Chalmers’ face broke into smiling creases. He drummed the board room table with liver spotted fingers. To his right, Deputy Director Goddard leaned back in his chair, arms folded. His eyes drilled through the Hybrid’s head plate. Sitting on his left, Havelock lit a cigarette.

  “And this is,” the Hybrid’s mood optics flashed green and blue, “This is the human who uncovered this conspiracy?”

  Havelock smiled and blew smoke at him.

  “Yes. I’m that human.”

  “Thank you for finding these bombs.”

  “You’re welcome. They’re not really bombs, though. They’re more projectors.”

  “Oh?” the Alliance diplomat used the word like a native speaker.

  “They can be used as engines, but are just as effective as weapons. The terrorists dug out the old engine plans for this reason. They’re hardly capable of designing something like this on their own, otherwise.”

  “It is troubling that they even managed to at all,” the Hybrid gestured with its appendage, another careful affectation. “They could have held the whole fleet to ransom – or worse. I think some high level discussions are in order. Human Affairs should have been given better equipment, resources, and access. Then perhaps, this affair could have been managed quite differently.”

  “Ambassador Three, I’m glad you can appreciate the situation as we do,” said Chalmers, “but that disappoints me.”

  “Why would that disappoint you, Director?”

  “Because now that we’ve foiled the plot, you’re here to talk to us about understanding. Where were the Hybrid ambassadors when all this started? The Alliance didn’t send you, it sent Fractal Worm troops.”

  “The unilateral actions – “

  “Do not insult our intelligence. They were not acting unilaterally, Fractal Worms are incapable of acting outside of consensus – it’s how they’ve evolved. We human were just never part of that consensus. That’s why we didn’t get valuable Hybrid ambassador time – that’s only for those in the club.”

  “Director, I empathize – I truly do – with the difficulties and hardships that Humanity has suffered as a junior member within the Alliance – “

  “No,” Havelock sat forward suddenly, “You’re an alien, Ambassador. You can’t empathize with us. For all the amazing genetic engineering and computing you represent, you can’t actually bridge this gap. Which is why we’re taking this matter into our own hands.”

  “Director,” Ambassador Three’s voice modulation rose slightly, “can clarification be made as to which person speaks for the group?”

  “Right now we’re all of one mind, so any of us will do,” said the balding Deputy Director.

  “Ambassador,” said Chalmers gently, “May I continue? Unless you’d prefer discussions with Mr. Havelock?”

  “Please continue, Director.”

  “Many humans have been unlawfully seized - and killed – in the course of this crisis. The laws and conventions of inter-ship protocol, have been made a mockery. The Old Ones overseeing us failed to protect us. Further, they did nothing to end the abuse.

  “This has abundantly established that the other races of the Alliance do not care about us, Ambassador. Their talk is just talk – when push comes to shove, they treat human interests as inferior. We do not accept this. We demand full representation on the council. Humans will be solely responsible for human ships, not Old Ones. We will determine who has access to our ships, and who does not. This will be completely at our discretion. These are our demands, Ambassador.”

  “They are certainly demands. Do you feel that if our situations were reversed, that you would agree to give such a volatile and varied group of beings, such power to cause damage to the rest of us? You have seen what a small band of rebels can do, with old, salvaged, technology.”

  “Respectfully Ambassador, you have seen what we can do to protect the fleet. We did this on our own, and the Alliance did nothing but hinder us, while greatly endangering itself. Humans should be given full membership, because we have proved ourselves. Even as the fleet turned on us, we stood by the Alliance and its ideals. Quite simply you owe us, Ambassador. You owe us your lives.”

  Silence. Havelock smirked and lit another cigarette.

  “As an opening gesture of goodwill Ambassador,” continued Chalmers, “we want our people back.”

  “Your people? You mean the ones taken for security?”

  “Yes, the hostages. We want them returned to us. All of them, unharmed. Furthermore, they will be handed over to us on the Alliance capital ship. The human media will need to be given full access to cover the event.”

  “I don’t understand,” said the alien.

  “It’s politics, so you should,” Goddard leaned forward. “Our people need to see that the fate of their loved ones, is being addressed at the very highest level. That human problems are getting the full attention of the Alliance. We know you won’t apologize, but this will do instead.”

  “Also, it’s important for our people to see that Human Affairs arranged this,” added Chalmers. “We need to reassure them that we’re effective agents of their interests – not a bunch of alien, bully boys. This will build our own authority, and decrease support for rebel groups. Everyone wins.”

  “I’m sorry, this request is unreasonable. Access to the capital is highly restricted.”

  “That’s too bad,” replied Chalmers, “Because unless it’s arranged, we will not surrender the remaining antimatter projectors.”

  The alien turned and regarded him.

  “Director,” it said slowly, “can the last statement be clarified?”

  “There is nothing to clarify Ambassador. Did you think we would just make demands, and expect you to agree to them just because you should? The terrorists made a lot of bombs. Now, they’re our bombs. If you want us to give up our weapons, you’re going to have to give up our people.”

  Silence again.

  “Come on,” said Havelock. “It’s not like you have to deal with a human-caused crisis anymore.”

  Cullins IX

  92 Years Ago

  Patrol ship Deep Space 325 (Piracy, Tech, Scum) was winning Humanity’s first war against aliens. This was only fair: its captain had started it in the first place.

  Patrol was a different universe from the pomp-and-polish, regular Navy. Most naval tours were no more than 60 days. Patrol tours started at six months and up. Naval ships usually worked in or near a group. A Patrol ship fought alone. A system dominance cruiser carried over a hundred crew plus troops. A comparable patrol cruiser carried just four, tightly-packed, souls.

  Weapons Officer, Navigator, Pilot, Captain.

  “This,” the man finger-stabbed from darkness at the glowing hologram, “Is the heart of swarm.”

  Captain Cullins regarded his deathly-pale navigator. Heavy black pants and a grey skinny, palms on the display table. His dog tag reflected screen glow; it read ‘KUCINICH’.

  “What am I looking at?” Cullins leaned forward. “Looks like another ship cluster.”

  “This one is different – no non-coms. Every radar profile matches a class of warsh
ip we’ve already encountered. Every profile, except one.” He tapped the center, the hologram expanded and zoomed. The dot in the center grew into a large, orange, wireframe lozenge.

  “I sacrificed 15 to get the image, but it was bingo fuel anyway.”

  “A rounded design in space – it’s atmosphere-capable. How big is it?”

  “Six hundred meters without the cilia. Almost twice that, with them.”

  “Big as a planet carrier. It looks alive.”

  “For all we know, it is. We could be out here fighting giant space bacteria. I can’t answer that. What I can tell you, is that it’s important. It’s in the largest identified cluster of all-military ships. Yet, it’s avoided every engagement. It sends other clusters – even non-combat ones – ahead of it. It’s always close to the center of the fleet. My guess is that it can only be command and control. And, it’s about to pass close to us.”

  Two heads turned round, silhouetted in screen glow. Cullins looked up at the figures twisting in their acceleration seats.

  “You found their command and control?” said a woman wearing a baseball cap, the pilot.

  “Neve, it has no idea we’re here. It’s been so busy avoiding our drones and mines, its course is bringing it right this way. Closest approach will be in one week.”

  “Fuck yeah!” said the other, the weapons officer. His beard, like much about Patrol, was not regulation. “We still have the two ninjas. I can feed them its radar profile, and pop them out the tubes.”

  “We’re going to need those,” said Neve. “For Cluster Six.”

  “Neve is right,” Cullins folded his arms. “We have to take out Six before it gets to the Hedron. We can’t spare our last drones.”

  “Respectfully Sir, will it matter?” threw back Kucinich. “Six is only an eight-ship cluster, wherever it rides the Hedron, the Union can deal with it. We hit their C&C; we can do some real damage.”

  “We’ve been doing real damage. We let Six through, it could hit our C&C. Just because they don’t have stealth capability or seem to use nanotech, doesn’t mean we should underestimate them. In a stand up fight against a real ship, those are dangerous. We don’t know what their mission is, or what ordnance they’re carrying. We need to take them out, and we need to warn Jupiter.”