The Code

by Doug Dandridge

  “How often has it failed in tests?” asked Sean.

  “About ten percent of the time,” said Chan, looking down.

  “And within the last month?”

  “Well,” said Chan, looking back up and into the eyes of her monarch, “it hasn’t failed at all in the last month. Every time we’ve transmitted the code to one of the Machine AIs we’ve replicated, it has shut down. But, your Majesty,” her tone changing to pleading. “We can’t be sure that the Machines still have the same code in place. If we transmit and fail, they will change their headers and we won’t have a chance of breaking in.”

  “And if they have changed their code? How many different possibilities are there for the other code to take?”

  Sean thought that the brilliant scientist was too close to the situation. If they knew the current code, meaning the Machines had never changed it, a possibility since it would have been buried deep in their programming, out of mind, then it would work. If they had changed the code, then there was no way this would work. And there was no way the Empire would be able to find the current code without a miracle.

  “We predict hundreds of billions,” said Chan, letting out a sigh. “And that may be an underestimation.”

  “Then our best chance is to go ahead and use what we have, right?” argued the Emperor. “And you have the transmitters built and ready to go, correct.”

  “We need to hit them all at once if we are to guarantee success, your Majesty,” said the scientist, pulling out her last card.

  “I agree. And if we hit their fleet in Bolthole, what is the chance they will be able to get a message to the rest of their fleet? Almost three hundred light years away? Unless they are able to transmit a message?”

  “If we shut them down, they won’t be able to warn the rest of their brethren at that range,” said Chan, her expression changing. “And if we pulse at full strength, the code will most probably disseminate to their entire fleet. Even the ships in Gorgansha space. And the AIs in their own industrial systems.”

  “So, if we send out the code and it doesn’t shut them down, it doesn’t matter if they warn the other AIs. Right? Because the whole thing is a bust?”

  “No, sir. It doesn’t.”

  “Then you have your answer, Admiral,” said Sean, his tone changing to one of command. “Get those transmitters out to the fronts, load up the headers and the codes, and get them ready to transmit. I’ll be talking with the commanders at the fronts and let them know what’s going on. How long?”

  “We can get all of the transmitters programmed on one of the ships and ready to go within two hours. Give us another couple of hours to get them through the gates.”

  “That one goes to Bolthole,” ordered Sean, giving his admiral a stern look that brooked no argument. “When you get more of them ready, they go to Bednarczyk. Understood?”

  “Yes, your Majesty,” said Chan, closing her eyes.

  Sean was waiting for the next argument, ready to cut her off. He was tired of excuses, and would hear no more.

  “If the one works in Bolthole,” she said, opening her eyes, her expression morphing to one of excitement, as if she couldn’t wait to try out her new toy. “If the one works at Bolthole, we won’t need the others. That transmission will disseminate to every part of that space.”

  “Then get to it.”

  Sean disengaged from the com without any fanfare. He needed to get on to the next conversation, and one he was dreading. Though there would be another following immediately after.

  “High Lord Grarakakak,” he said as the Brakakak leader appeared on the com. “I have another favor to ask of you.”

  “What is it this time?” asked the leader of the Elysium Empire, clearly exasperated with another request.

  Sean could understand why the other leader was aggravated at receiving any further requests from the human Emperor. The Brakakak was the leader of his Empire in name only, the first among equal among the five chief councilors of the government. One other Brakakak, and single members of three other species, it was difficult for the High Lord to push edicts through to be supervised by the lower council.

  Time for the carrot, thought the Emperor. He thought he had the allies in Parliament to pass the measures he was considering. It would use up a lot of his political capital, and might crash the coalition that supported him. This was war, and sometimes he must order things based on what was of immediate importance, and not on what needs might come later.

  “I need more ships from your fleet, High Lord.”

  “What?” blurted out the being. “We’ve already sent half of our fleet to fight the Ca’cadasans. And then we sent another contingent to fight the damned AIs you created. Created after you were warned against doing it, by us. We need some ships for our own defense, after all.”

  “Defense against what?” asked Sean, his own anger rising after listening to the dressing down the High Lord had given him. “We’re not going to attack you. The Fenri no longer exist. Crakista is an ally, and besides, they would have to come across the Empire to get to you. And Lashara is no longer a naval power, and haven’t been for decades. So, what do you have to be afraid of?”

  Sean realized his error as soon as the words left his mouth. He was now thinking he should have let his ambassador to Elysium, Archduke Horatio Alexandropolis, handle this. But he needed those ships and he needed them now. Insinuating that the prickly prideful Brakakak were making decisions based on fear was a mistake, though everyone knew that all species did so.

  “We are not afraid,” screeched the other leader, the feathery fuzz around his face standing on end, a sign of rage, or maybe fear as well.

  “We’re all afraid, Grarakakak,” said Sean, keeping his tone level. “Don’t deny that you had plans to go to war with my people if that proved necessary. Just as we had the same plans. Everyone does, since we can’t read the minds of our neighbors.”

  The avian stared at the human for a moment in silence. Sean was not as familiar with the alien species as he was with his own. Still, he had grown more familiar with them since the alliance had been signed. He recognized that expression. The High Lord was considering the words of the human, and what he would say in response. As pressed for time as he was, he was willing to let the other being have some space. Pushing him and failing wouldn’t help, even if the decision was quicker in coming.

  “You wouldn’t have come to me to ask for help unless you had something to offer in return,” said the alien, a slight smile on his beaked face. “So, Sean, what is it? What can you give me to sell to my own people?”

  “Access to our growing wormhole network.”

  The Brakakak let out a hacking laugh. Sean knew what he was thinking, and what he was about to say.

  “We already have access to your network. You offer us nothing.”

  “Read the wording of the treaty,” said a smiling Sean, shaking his head. “You have military access to the systems we want you to have access to. And only as long as the hostilities last. When the war is over you will have access to the black hole system, and nothing else. Of course that will allow your merchant fleet to transit quickly from your capital system into the center of my Empire. From there you will have to forge through space the old-fashioned way. With all the costs of time and antimatter that it entails.”

  “And you are offering?”

  “Complete access to every merchant ship approved gate, across my Empire. As well as helping you to set up your own gate system throughout your own Empire. I’m sure you can see the advantages this will give you in trade with the Empire. I will be offering the same deal to Crakista, and we will be integrating the Republic and, when it’s back on its feet, the Czardom. And all our other allies, as well as the new nations we will be starting in the former Fenri Empire. So, open trade for everyone.”

  The High Lord’s beak fell open. “That, would be wonderful. I’m sure I can sell that to the councils.”

  “We don’t have time for you to sell it. We
need those ships moving, now. Can you do it.”

  “Yes. Yes, I think I can. I may have to make quite a few apologies for taking the initiative before meeting with the others, but I think I can work it out. I will get in touch with the admirals and give them their marching orders. Still, it will still take some hours to get them through the gates on that front.”

  Sean nodded. There was a fleet based in the capital system of the Elysium Empire. Most of it would be close to that system’s gate, which was near the capital planet, and could start moving through within fifteen minutes or less. One at a time, every ten to fifteen seconds. They would exit in the black hole system, at a gate ring that was over two hour’s flight time at maximum accel/decel, then through the gate to Bolthole. Or the capital of the Gorgansha Consolidation. It would be much better if there was a direct transfer from Elysium to Bolthole, but such didn’t exist.

  “Thank you, High Lord.”

  The Brakakak gave a human nod and severed the connection. Sean sat back and took a deep breath. One down, one to go. This second contact would come with another problem. Even if the Crakista could get their ships into the black hole system, there wasn’t enough room in the gate to transfer their vessels and those from Elysium at the same time.

  Sean sent out the command on his implant, setting the next com in motion. It took almost five minutes, but eventually a reptilian face appeared in a holo over his desk. This one had red scales, which in and of itself meant nothing in the logical Crakista hierarchy. But he knew that the leader of that people was a red, and he prepared himself for his next job of selling.

  * * *

  BOLTHOLE.

  “You have ships coming your way, Admiral Henare,” said McCullom over the com.

  Anaru was looking over at the plot. The Machine ships were still four hours out from the hyper I barrier. He had all twenty-four of his minelayers out there placing as many of the weapons as they could. The mines were missile launchers, plain and simple. A cylinder with a capital ship missile, sensor systems, all as stealthed as much as possible, both active and passive systems. Anything coming within range would be tracked for a moment, then fired on. Henare didn’t think those weapons would stop the steamroller when it arrived, but even a pinprick could help.

  “How long?”

  The admiral pulled up another holo, this one showing his commercial shipping assets. He had over fifty freighters and a dozen tankers. Seven of them were superfreighters, here to deliver machinery from the Empire and bring back the products of the system. They could carry over twenty million tons of freight, and five of them were empty at the moment. Unfortunately, their massive holds were not structured to take on refugees. They had one enormous hold that could be loaded with containers that matched up to form a solid mass for shipping. While the hold could be pressurized, and most times was, there was no place to put the people. They could float in zero gravity, and in fact some were going to do so, but still it was a limited solution. The holds could be packed with small ships, but those craft could go through the gate themselves, so that wasn’t a solution either.

  The other freighters had cabins and corridors that could hold people. So did the tankers. Not enough. There were also a couple of liners that could hold a lot of people. But they needed lift to get people onto them. Shuttles. And there weren’t enough of those either. People could move across with excursion suits. There were not near enough of those either, and most people in the system were not trained in their use.

  No matter how he looked at it, half the people or more in the system would not be able to get out.

  “The first ships should be coming through within two hours. It will take somewhat longer for the transmission ship to come through. It’s still being configured. But the crew should be taking it on its trip to the gate in another couple of hours. So, figure it will be there six hours or so after the enemy arrives.”

  That’s fucking wonderful, thought the admiral. They were sending him the ship that was supposed to save his ass, but it wouldn’t be functional. Probably not even when it entered the system. So they would be racing to get the damned system working while the Machines were sending in masses of missiles.

  “I hope they can get the thing working,” he said, pulling up the schematic of the ship. In size and structure it was basically a battleship, a hyper VII in fact, giving it strong legs. No missiles, almost no light amp weapons, only a pair of watered-down rings. It was not prepared for offensive action, and was barely capable of defending itself. The grabber units and hyperdrive units were over-sized, and the center of the ship had been hollowed out and the guts replaced with more machinery and computers. That was the machinery that made the ship what it was, a powerful grav wave transmitter that could send a signal through the system almost instantaneously, and could echo it through hyper VIII, moving it at several hundred thousand times the speed of light. If the signal it sent was the right one, the Machines would shut down, if they were in fact still open to that code. If not, it was just another ship and several thousand crew that would be destroyed with it.

  “I do too,” said McCullom, her expression showing her own doubts. “Keep the civilians moving, and try to get as many of them as you can through the gate. But…”

  “I know,” said Henare, nodding his head. Once the warships started coming through the gate they would have to stop sending the commercial ships out. Trying to run them both ways was just asking for the collision of multimillion-ton warships.

  “I still think we should just pull out everything we can and take the hit,” said McCullom, shaking her head. “But, it’s out of my hands. Once Sean gets involved, his is the only opinion that counts.”

  And you don’t like that, thought the admiral, keeping his own expression flat, since he didn’t want his CNO thinking that he was against her. He was very happy that the Emperor had gotten involved. This was his command, and his people. They had all invested a lot of time and energy in this project. He didn’t want to see the system laid waste by their enemies, and he especially didn’t like the possibility of almost hundred million humans dying here.

  “We're still trying to get you some allied ships. Elysium or Crakista. I can't guarantee we'll get any. We've already called in a lot of favors to get reinforcements for Bednarczyk. But if we can get them, we'll get them to you.”

  “Who will command the fleet when the reinforcements get here? Am I supposed to turn over command to the senior Elysium or Crakista commanders?”

  “It is your system, Admiral. You have command. And the admirals in charge of those forces know it. If they give you any trouble, you are to contact the Emperor immediately.”

  “Not you?”

  “I have no pull with their leaders, Admiral,” said McCullom with a grimace. “So I am more than willing to let his Imperial Majesty handle this one. Just don’t let them think that you are putting undue burden and sacrifice on either of these forces. The Brakakak are much easier on the human eyes than the Crakista. But treat them the same.”

  Henare nodded. The avians reminded human of birds, a life form they were very comfortable around. The Crakista were reptilian in appearance. They really weren’t reptiles, any more than the scaly members of the extinct Dinosaurs class were. They were warm blooded and gave live birth, and had brains just as complex as those of humans. But they looked like reptiles, and those creatures had a definite undesirable effect on humans.

  “I won’t let any of my natural prejudices effect my command decisions, ma’am.”

  “Good. I’m glad to see that you are honest enough to own up to them. Most of our people wouldn’t be. Now, I have to get on the com to Admiral Bednarczyk. Keep me informed, and good luck.”

  The com holo died, and Henare noted that it was time for the meeting of the staff he had called over an hour ago. They would be waiting on him. That was okay, since he was the one in charge.

  * * *

  Nazzrirat Andonna looked up as the love of his life, Mraazzarit Mlakash, came running into t
he cafeteria.

  “Aren’t you leaving?” asked the female, concern in her voice.

  “No,” replied Nazzrirat, giving a very human head shake. “I’m not sure me and my siblings are that much in demand.”

  Siblings could communicate which each other across any conceivable distance, instantaneously. Groups of siblings normally numbered from seven to nine, and the full-strength groups were in great demand. Nazzrirat’s liter had comprised eight beings, good enough for the brothers to be considered for a com net. They had decided to settle here instead, and during the first Machine attack three of them had been killed, reducing the group to a number that was not sufficient, not when there were hundreds of thousands of other liters that could be used in the Imperial fleet.

  “Still, you could request evacuation,” said his lover, reaching her tentacles over and entwining them with those of the male.

  “Me and my brothers are going to stand and fight,” the Klassekian said with conviction. “The Empire has helped our people, and I refuse to abandon them in their hour of need.”

  “But they can’t beat the force that is on the way here,” exclaimed the woman, her voice rising.

  “They will have to invade Bolthole to take it out,” said the male, not quite sure about that, though he had his hopes. “And we will be here to fight them.”

  “Then I will stay with you.”

  “What about your sisters?” he asked, in one way glad that she wanted to stay, in another concerned for her safety if she remained.