by Jack Colrain
Lizzie shrugged. “According to Gresian mythology, the Gresians, during this time period, had begun exploring their star system. While exploring, they found a gateway which they studied and learned how to use. So, pulling out that ‘for the good of unifying society’ thing again, they decided to send the Shaldine to a safe world where they could live. That turned out to be the planet you named Lyonesse. Being so few in number, as well as sterile, Shaldine society never recovered, leaving them to die off in a few decades. The planet became a symbol of who the Gresians were and the mistakes they’d made, and so by reflection the progress they had made since. The planet became sacred to them. They preserve it so that they can remember it.”
“And then when my arrogance led us there...” Wilson let his words trail away, doubtless realizing where they would lead.
“Yes. When you set up your colony on that planet, the Gresians believed you had violated something very much at the heart of Gresian identity. That was a sensible idea, huh? Should have listened to me.”
“You said you didn’t know who had built that complex,” Daniel said pointedly. “Primitive rock worshipers, remember?”
“To be fair, I didn’t believe half of what was in the Gresian creation myth. After all, it was propagandizing mythology. I only correlated the elements after the data from the Shaldine records became available.”
“That makes sense to me,” Wilson mused. “At least, I think it does; perhaps I’m anthropomorphizing too much myself…. While I haven’t had as much time to conduct my researches as Miss… er—”
“Lizzie will do fine,” she said. “Don’t sweat it.”
“Yes, while I have had less time to research than Lizzie has, I have made a concerted effort since connecting to the Shaldine computer memory on Lyoneesse. That research into the Shaldine gate system has indicated to me, as I said when I mentioned the Gresian’s collective subconscious, that the Shaldine viewed the gate system as more than merely transportation.” Now the others, even Lizzie, listened with rapt attention. “It was a means of communication and connection. The Shaldine could think to one another consciously, like...”
“In a similar way to what Daniel and I do?” Hope asked.
“Yes, quite, but the Gresians are much more intimately connected even than the two of you. Rather than their conscious thoughts, their collective subconscious has become threaded through the gateway system on a particular bio-neural harmonic which the Shaldine Library has allowed us to determine the nature of. This link embedded in the gate system’s network isn’t a threat to us, but it’s a threat to the Gresians; an exploitable flaw in the system,” Wilson said.
Daniel tried to understand. “So… you’re saying we could cut it off? Shut down that energy flow, and—”
“We could, yes, but it’s unlikely that individual Gresians would notice much of a change. Probably, they’d feel a little more lonely, but that’s about it.”
“My heart bleeds for them.”
“So, what the Joint Chiefs intend to do is the exact opposite. With access to the gateway network’s original operating system through the prototype gate generator, which still exists on the planet we’ve named Firebird, we can send a high-energy out-of-phase test pulse through the system on that bio-neural frequency.”
“And that will do what?”
Wilson hesitated. “It will fry their synapses. They will each suffer a massive overloading spike in their brains’ electrical energy—an overload, if you like. The practical effect will be as if they all had a sudden, massive and fatal stroke at once.”
Daniel perked up at that, even as his skin chilled. “How many of them, and how far from the site?”
“All of them. Everywhere. The entire species will suffer the same brainstorm, and die, in a matter of seconds. Anywhere and everywhere in the galaxy.”
Daniel’s head spun.
“Leaving, of course, all their infrastructure, technology, and the gateway system itself, for us,” Wilson continued. “Humanity will be safe from the Gresian threat forever, and will also have gained its place in the stars, no longer needing to be concerned about being trapped on just one small planet with limited resources...”
Guaranteed safety for humanity, and with such gains as a bonus, Daniel thought. Wilson had done everyone proud this time.
“Genocide?” Hope asked, bringing Daniel’s mood down with a thud.
Wilson looked both sad and uncomfortable. “That’s what the Joint Chiefs saw as feasible from my research, yes.”
Once they’d left the library, and were cognizant once again of being in the Sydney’s C-In-C with Colonel Barnett, Daniel took a couple of minutes to let everything sink in, and he tried to get a grip on the level of responsibility he was being handed.
Barnett leaned forward, hands flat on the table, and shrugged as if he could see the lieutenant’s dilemma. “Dan… I won’t lie to you. You and Wilson are this strike force’s real hammer. You will lead a pathfinder unit comprising two platoons. You will land near the Shaldine research facility identified by Professor Wilson, and infiltrate and secure it while the local Gresian military forces are tied up with our main landings. You will escort Professor Wilson into the Shaldine facility, and.... Well, and then he’ll take over from there.” Barnett smiled crookedly. “I know what you’re thinking, about a civilian taking charge from there, but technically the SecDef is a civilian, and our CIA and NSA spooks are civilians…. It’s not that unusual, is it?”
“Professor Wilson is—” Daniel hesitated; working with him had been somewhat stressful on the Lyonesse mission, though they had eventually settled most of their differences.
“I get you,” Barnett said quietly. “You each think the other is a bit of a dick, but so what?” Beside him, Wilson sighed while Hope suppressed a smile. “All of our computer simulations indicate a very high rate of success with this mission profile.”
“What are the fallback plans if the Gresians aren’t diverted, and the Hardcases come under heavy assault?” Hope asked. “I mean, this is a pathfinder mission, behind enemy lines. Are we on our own out there or will we have support?”
“You’ll have all the back-up you need. Support has been arranged from all the services, and will remain on standby throughout the operational phase.”
Daniel nodded. “Exactly what support assets do we have at our disposal, sir?”
“For one thing, the air cover and ground attack support I already mentioned. One flight of a tactical fighter wing will be permanently on hot standby for any call from you.”
‘I guess that’ll be your job,’ Daniel thought to Hope.
‘Or liaising with them from the ground. Makes sense.’
“You’ll also have a hotline through me to the ships in orbit to call in orbital strikes if necessary,” Colonel Barnett continued. “As for your assets on the ground itself, you won’t have to worry much on that score. You’ve also got some new toys to play with, and some time to get acclimated to both them and the new members of your team.”
“How much time is that exactly, sir?”
Barnett closed his eyes momentarily, as if counting in his head. “The fleet is still loading supplies, equipment, and personnel. There are six days before we go through the gateway.” He stood, and stretched. “Anyway, that’s it for now. Sealed and scrambled orders will be disseminated later in the week.” He handed Daniel and Hope a small tablet reader each. “For now, the maps, imagery we’ve managed to get from drone recon, and intel on Firebird and the Shaldine facility’s precise location are on these devices for your reading pleasure.” His eyes hardened. “Study them well; this is the keystone to the whole mission, and the fate of Earth. Let’s stop this war with the Gresians before it really heats up.”
Dismissed, they left the C-In-C. As they stepped out into the corridor, Daniel thought to Hope and asked, ‘Do you think Barnett has it right? He seemed pretty confident.’
‘You’re asking me that? Your military is the one that, whenever the brass get co
nfident, has everyone getting scared because somebody’s going to have a really bad day.’
‘I don’t know if scared is the right word.’
‘It should be,’ Hope thought back grimly, ‘it’s the sensible word.’ She gave his hand a squeeze, and then turned towards the hangar area. Daniel paused, and looked at the tablet Barnett had given him. “It’s a GOBI,” he admitted aloud.
“You know that lass of yours has a good head on her shoulders; you should listen to her,” Lizzie said cheerfully. “She’s right; this plan has ‘we’re boned’ written all over it.”
“What would your suggestion be?”
Lizzie went silent for a moment. “You know what? I don’t think I’d do any different than the plan we’ve got.”
“Really?”
“I was programmed to fight the Gresians two and a half thousand years ago,” she reminded him. “This solution offers a certain chance of closure that I’ve never seen before.” She glanced round. “Here comes the man of the hour.” Daniel followed her gaze and saw Doug Wilson emerging from the corridor that led to the C-In-C and waving to him. Daniel waited for the professor to reach him.
“Lieutenant West,” Wilson began.
“Is there something I can do for you?”
“Perhaps, yes. I believe we ought to have a conversation about Operation Stravinsky. A private conversation, if you will.”
“OK,” Daniel said at last. “Where and when? We’ve got almost a week before setting off. And there’s something I need to consult Lizzie about first.”
Wilson looked disappointed, but had clearly learned something over the past couple of months, as he didn’t press the issue. “I’ll catch up with you tonight or tomorrow, if that’s all right with you.”
“That’s fine, cool.”
“Thank you, Lieutenant.” Wilson nodded politely and continued on his way.
Daniel, meanwhile, made his way back to his cabin. Once inside, he summoned Lizzie.
“We need to talk about something, Lizzie, and what we just saw in the Shaldine records reminds me that it needs to be soon. As in now.” He registered that he was taking a firmer, almost hostile, tone with her than usual, and tried to clamp down on that. He was tense, though, both with thoughts and memories, and that tautness in his gut just intensified as he tried to push at it.
She didn’t seem concerned by his tone, and he wasn’t sure if that reassured him or not. Probably not, he decided, as something simmered in his brain. She spoke first. “You’ve been going over the after-action reports from Lyonesse, and doing some thinking about the Gresians’ reactions to suit-wearers such as yourself,” she observed.
“Back on Lyonesse, you said that one Gresian who had me cold hesitated because something about the blood protein that allows for use of Exo-suits is Gresian.”
“That’s true.” Lizzie paused, then went on. “Well, to a degree.”
“It didn’t stop them killing Jessica Evans, or any of the others. Just me. So, is there a way we can exploit that? Make ourselves immune to being targets?”
“Ah, I thought that was where you were going with this, yeah.” She smiled. “No, you can’t exploit that. The Gresian you fought only hesitated for a moment. If it hadn’t been killed at that point, it would still have killed you.” She paused again, looking like she was thinking. “Alright, maybe it would have captured you first and tortured you to find out what you were. Then killed you anyway.”
“Even though you said I must be part-Gresian on some level—”
“A very, very tiny part Gresian. No offense, no pun intended. Remember that Lyonesse is sacred to Gresians, and that even full-blooded, non-guardian caste Gresians are forbidden to go there on pain of death.”
“So, there are exceptions...”
“Context is everything,” Lizzie agreed.
“Even that momentary hesitation might give us an advantage in the moment, though.”
“Momentarily, yeah. It’s better than a poke in the eye with a sharp stick.”
Seven
UES Sydney, Earth Orbit
That evening, after both Daniel and Hope had studied the overall Operation Stravinsky mission briefing on their tablets, they met up in the Sydney’s wardroom for a more formal dinner than they would have found elsewhere. Here, they were waited upon by stewards and there was a discreet bar in one corner. Most U.S. Navy surface vessels were dry, of course, but as the Sydney was of non-U.S.-build, and of a multinational crew, it was a pleasant exception that both NATO and Lizzie had allowed.
They were enjoying wine with their dinner as a result, but more than anything else, they were enjoying being in each other’s company. They’d both noticed the occasional glance of sympathy coming their direction from other officers, and suspected that they probably thought that Hope and Daniel were either complete strangers, or weren’t getting along.
‘After all,’ Hope pointed out silently, ‘we aren’t saying a word to each other.’
‘Actions speak louder than words, but they probably haven’t thought about whether brainwave action counts on that score.’ He could feel her amusement, though she kept an admirable poker face for the sake of the audience. That in turn forced him to clench his teeth to avoid chuckling aloud.
‘Are you deliberately trying to corpse me?’
‘Corpse you?’ She was baffled.
‘Trying to make me laugh. Actors call it corpsing, because the worst time to get a fit of the giggles is when they’re playing a corpse in a play.’
‘Oh, then yes, definitely. At least as much as you’re trying to corpse me.’
‘Guilty as charged. Who wants to have a fit of the giggles when lying down in front of an audience?’
‘I can’t say I’ve ever laid down in front of an audience.’ He almost choked at that, and she raised an eyebrow. ‘Speaking of which,’ she thought to him, ‘just how private is your cabin?’
‘You mean how big an audience can it seat?’
‘The real question is how comfortable is the stage.’
‘Are you thinking of treading my boards?’
‘You’ve heard of the Peking Opera, surely. It’s a little more lively than treading.’
‘A night at the opera sounds fun. And I’m sure a rehearsal space can be arranged on a nice stage. Would you like to see for yourself?’
‘That would be a good way to ascertain the truth about the cabins,’ she agreed. ‘But it’s against regulations,’ she reminded him.
‘What’s the worst they can do? Tell us we can’t go on an insanely dangerous suicide mission to the Gresian planet?’
She laughed aloud, drawing startled looks from several other officers around the wardroom.
Hope and Daniel didn’t hold hands as they made their way through the vast ship’s corridors. Some decorum had to be maintained, after all, and neither wanted the other to either be embarrassed or get into any trouble.
The walk back to Daniel’s cabin was relaxed and comfortable for both of them, though, together as they were. The presence of each other was the only thing that mattered to each of them. As with all their time on the Sydney since it had been rechristened, things were much more pleasant than when they’d first had to fight their way through hordes of drones and nanites and automated defense systems. None of the damage the Hardcases must have caused back then remained now.
When they reached the corridor where Daniel’s cabin was, they were surprised to find Doug Wilson waiting outside. “Oh, I am sorry, Lieutenant,” Wilson said, looking as surprised as Daniel felt. “I didn’t realize you would still be busy.” Daniel searched his tone for any sign of irony, or a hint that Wilson knew what their business was meant to be, but found none. “You had suggested tonight as a moment when we might talk,” Wilson reminded him.
“Uh, yeah, but then something came up, and—”
“Oh, it’s all right, I can catch you tomorrow, Lieutenant. Although it would only take a minute.”
‘Not a word,’ Daniel thought, making
Hope smile. She made it a polite one, and stepped back, saying, “I can give you two some privacy for a minute, before we need to be on our way.”
Daniel forced a smile for Wilson and nodded primly before opening the door. “A minute, you said.” He hoped it wouldn’t be longer, given that he had other things on his mind than whatever trivia Doug was likely to tell him.
Once inside, Wilson got straight to the point, which Daniel kind of appreciated, though it meant that stuff was coming at him out of the blue and he didn’t like that. “Colonel Barnett held things back from the briefing,” he said crisply.
“That always happens. It’s what summaries are for.”
“No, you don’t understand, Lieutenant West. He left an option out. We don’t have to kill the Gresians. It would be easier to do so, yes, but it’s not the only solution to the problem they pose that the Shaldine records have provided.”
Daniel rolled his eyes. He was missing personal time with Hope for this? He wanted to shake Wilson by the throat and remind him that this was how war worked: kill the enemy before they killed you. “And what’s the Shaldine Plan B?”
“We can destroy the gate system.”
Wilson elaborated, “That would cut the Gresians off from interstellar travel, and trap them in their own systems.”
“And us in ours. And they’d still be out there, still a threat; we wouldn’t have ended that threat,” Daniel pointed out.
“The laws of physics disagree. We know the Gresians don’t have faster than light travel; they wouldn’t be able to get close enough to Earth to pose a danger for centuries. And they’d be logistically weakened by the loss of their long-distance interconnectedness. Their collective subconscious will only work on a local level, so the populations of different ships and worlds will be cut off from each other. They may develop in different, less hostile ways—”
