Metal Swarm

by Kevin J. Anderson

  52 KOLKER

  Thanks to Osira’h, Kolker understood now. He understood everything, and it was marvelous! Breathtaking.

  His hopes had been correct. Now that his mind was open to the connections in the cosmos, he saw all aspects of the power struggles, the shifting tides from one Spiral Arm to the next. From the grand elemental beings, to the humans and Ildirans, to the tiniest insects and single-celled organisms, everything was woven together by passageways, bridges, networks, and webs that he had never comprehended. It was as if he’d been standing too close to a mosaic and now, after taking a few steps away from it, could discern how all the discrete fragments fit together to form a vast and complex pattern.

  Kolker sat in the bright sunlight, drinking in everything he held in his mind, everything he had begun to share. A group of lens kithmen still sat staring into the plasma-bubble fountain, meditating, but Kolker no longer yearned to join them. He already understood more than they could see and think. They were limited by their thism, and he was not.

  His place in the overall scheme had not changed, but all of a sudden he knew he had a place. He sensed a million embracing arms of thism from the Ildirans around him, and when he touched the lone treeling, he could soar across the connections of telink. After his long, lonely misery he had never imagined feeling so incredibly wonderful.

  He knew he had to open the minds of his friends to this glorious reality—not just green priests, but normal humans as well. This was not meant to be a private revelation. It could raise them all to a higher consciousness.

  First he would start with the Hansa cloud harvesters working under Tabitha Huck. He needed to share.

  Because of the construction activities, a constant stream of supply shuttles went up to orbit. Kolker boarded the next ship that had room for him. No Ildiran had challenged the green priest when he took the treeling from the Palace.

  As the shuttle ascended, Kolker, wearing the reflective medallion that Tery’l had given him, supported the heavy pot in his lap. He held the thin trunk with one hand and rubbed the prismatic medallion with his other, engrossed in the vast universe inside his head. Already he had begun to describe some of his revelations to the verdani, and the trees seemed to know nothing of the possibilities.

  He reached a new space station assembled from modular components and scraps of damaged warliners. The Hansa workers were experienced in using maneuvering units and flexible spacesuits, but what the Ildiran labor crews most desperately needed to learn from the humans was organization, initiative, and innovation. Now that the initial breathless wonder had passed, Kolker found that he could function better than before. His work and interactions were more efficient—almost perfect, in fact. These humans should be able to do the same.

  Kolker walked gracefully into the central hub, where transparent viewing panes looked out upon the manufacturing units and orbiting assembly docks. Now that he was so much more attuned, he felt every touch of recycled air on his skin, saw the vivid details of the metal walls and floor, and the spangle of stars out in infinite space. He was aware of every person around him, though he couldn’t sense specifics about them. Not yet.

  In control of all of the stations and line managers, Tabitha looked as satisfied as a cat with a fresh bowl of cream. She had only to snap a command, and an Ildiran worker fulfilled her wishes. Such power might have gone to her head, but she looked focused rather than haughty. Five Hansa engineers also in the chamber were pleased and surprised to see the familiar green priest join them.

  A broad tablescreen displayed status reports, wire-frame diagrams, and real-time images of partially constructed warliners that drifted in the expansive assembly yards. Tabitha shifted her attention from one pane to the next. When she looked up and saw him, her face registered surprise. “Kolker! I thought a green priest would stay landbound.”

  “I have something important.” He set the treeling down on her deskscreen, accidentally covering up columns of glowing numbers. “I need to show you. And Sullivan.”

  She was distracted. “Sullivan’s inspecting the ring docks right now. He’ll be back in half an hour.”

  Kolker gave her a calm and beatific smile. “What if I could share something with you that would sharpen your senses, let you make decisions faster, understand more? Would you be interested?”

  She laughed. “That would help.” Tabitha glanced at the tablescreen as an indicator light began to blink, and she snapped a couple of orders to keep the production moving. “All right, but I don’t have all day. Make it fast.” She called to one of her helpers. “Barry, check on that alignment girder! It looks off-kilter to me.”

  Kolker touched the treeling and held his lens medallion, concentrating on the facets and on the flow of telink. “It’ll take only a second.”

  “Is it some green priest thing?”

  “More than that.” He turned his hand sideways to brush the outer edge of his palm against Tabitha’s forehead. He felt the worldforest mind, felt the soul-threads, and then rode on a wave of thism into the latent potential that was within Tabitha, within all humans. It was a simple matter for him now. He tweaked. Her mental gateways opened, and the universe flooded in.

  Tabitha gasped. Her eyes widened in amazement. Kolker withdrew his touch, and she stared around the administrative hub. “I don’t believe this! It’s incredible.”

  “I told you it would be.”

  “All the colors are brighter. I’ve never heard sounds like this before. So sharp, so clear, and I know what everything is.” She blinked, visibly integrating the new details rushing into her. “It’s like someone twisted a knob and brought the universe into better focus.” She yelled to the five Hansa engineers, “Come here! Kolker’s done something. I don’t even know what the hell it was.” Seeing her excitement and enthusiasm, the others approached with curiosity. “Barry, let him show you this. Touch him, Kolker. He’s got to see.”

  “What is it? What do I have to do?”

  “Just let me touch you. One second is all it takes.” Kolker smiled. “But only if you want to.”

  Barry took one look at Tabitha’s obvious joy and excitement. “Do whatever you have to do.” Kolker touched him and tweaked, and then Barry was gasping in wonder as well. “It’s like you blew my mind!” He turned to face Tabitha. “Is that you? I can sense you . . . not reading your mind, but you.”

  Tabitha nodded vigorously. “And Kolker, too. We’re here.”

  Not wanting to be left out, three more of the human engineers insisted on trying it for themselves, and Kolker happily obliged. One man remained skeptical, though. “Pretty much like brainwashing, isn’t it? That’s how it looks to me.”

  “Nothing like that at all, T.J.” Barry’s eyes were shining. “I feel like Kolker just increased my IQ by about a million points. Imagine an old, sputtering fusion drive that suddenly got an overhaul and a major upgrade.” He laughed aloud. “That’s me.”

  Though content, Kolker tried to reassure T.J. “This is not a trick. And if you change your mind, I can always reverse it.”

  “Not on your life.” Tabitha was already poring over her wide tablescreen, her fingers flying as she adjusted the assignments of work crews and fiddled with small details in the process flow. Within moments, she straightened, very satisfied. “Hmm, I never saw those bottlenecks before.”

  Sullivan Gold returned to all the excited chatter and saw the breathless expressions, the wide eyes. “What’s going on here?”

  “Kolker just showed us a genuine revelation! He can do something with his treeling, or with that medallion.”

  Tabitha barely took her attention away from the work parameters. “I can’t describe it, Sullivan. Try it!”

  The green priest extended a hand. “I wanted to show you first. Allow me—”

  But Sullivan stepped back. “Wait just a minute.”

  T.J. drew strength from the manager’s reluctance. “You’re not going to force us, are you?”

  “Of course not. This is only for
those who wish it. But it’s wonderful, Sullivan. It’s essential. You’ll think more clearly, you’ll understand all the interconnections, you’ll see things in every one of us that you never saw before. Trust me.”

  “I do trust you, Kolker, but it kinda sounds to me like you’re converting people to a new religion.”

  Kolker had not considered that aspect. “It is like that in a way . . . but not like that at all.”

  Sullivan kept holding his hands up. “I’ve got my own religion, thank you. I can’t imagine what Lydia would say if she’d heard I went chasing after some sort of cosmic head rush.”

  Kolker could feel the older manager’s reluctance, so he decided to give him time. “I’m always here if you change your mind. Talk with Tabitha and the others. Watch them, and see what this has done for them.” He picked up his treeling.

  “This is the most important thing ever,” Barry said.

  Though wonder shone clearly on her face, Tabitha maintained her sense of purpose. “All right, let’s put this to work. We’ve still got a lot of ships to rebuild out there. Ha! With this new mindset we’ll be a thousand times more efficient than before. We can tap into the Ildirans and communicate with each other. We can see . . . everything.” She couldn’t stop grinning, and the changed crewmembers seemed to be sharing her thoughts, communicating with only the slightest flicker of expression.

  Kolker felt deeply satisfied as he went to find a shuttle to take him back to Ildira. The possibilities seemed as endless as the universe he now viewed.

  53 PATRICK FITZPATRICK III

  After his long search, Patrick arrived at Golgen, a gas giant with canary skies, endless atmospheric storms, and clan Kellum’s massive ekti-harvesting operations. As he flew in, he listened to the chatter on various bands, trying to find the right place, looking for a familiar clan symbol on the dozens of factory complexes floating in the sky. He knew Zhett was here somewhere.

  He circled Golgen before landing at one of the larger skymines, a facility managed by a man named Boris Goff, who tried to hire Patrick as a courier. “Your ship is small, but it could still carry a profitable haul,” Goff said. Each of the cloud facilities was looking for independent transport ships to carry ekti to market; apparently, distribution was their main bottleneck. But Patrick had a different goal for now.

  “I’m looking for clan Kellum.” When he stepped away from the landed Gypsy, the winds were cold and carried a bitter smell. The tight knot in his stomach was due half to anticipation of seeing Zhett again and half to terror over how she might react. He clung to love and hope, determined to make amends, to make her see who he really was and how he had changed. He wanted to show her that he was sorry, that he would accept whatever punishment he deserved and somehow prove himself worthy of her.

  Goff frowned. “What do you need Kellum for? I can beat any offer they’d make.”

  You can’t offer someone like Zhett, Patrick thought. “I’ve worked for Del Kellum previously.”

  “And that’s a good thing?” Goff gave up and pointed toward a distant drifting facility. “That’s his, over there.”

  It was all Patrick needed. He practically jumped back into his ship, his pulse racing, and flew directly to the other skymine. Dozens of scenarios played in his imagination, and he rehearsed his words—his apology, his confession, his plea for forgiveness.

  He landed on one of the skydecks, transmitting only the new name of his ship and volunteering no further information. He didn’t want to forewarn Zhett. As far as he knew, she might try to shoot him.

  Stepping out of his craft in his nondescript uniform, he surveyed the eager Roamers who came to greet him. Thankfully, he recognized none of them from his days as a prisoner. “Is Zhett Kellum here?”

  “This is Kellum’s skymine, isn’t it?”

  Two people emerged from the command deck of the giant skymine. He could never forget Del’s barrel chest and his gray-streaked dark beard. Mostly though, he was riveted by Zhett. She had never looked more beautiful, as far as he was concerned. He felt butterflies take flight in his stomach.

  Kellum froze, gazing at him. “By damn!”

  Patrick could see from her expression that Zhett knew very well who he was. He wanted to say he was sorry, to overwhelm her with apologies of all variety and colors, to soothe any hurt feelings and erase the distance between them. There were so many words clamoring to get out of his mouth that for a moment they tangled together, and he couldn’t say anything at all. He raised his hand. “I’ve been looking for you. I’m sorry. There’s so much to explain—”

  “You’ve got a lot of nerve!”

  Patrick didn’t cringe in the face of her disdain. He had been prepared for this. “Go ahead. I deserve every awful thing you want to say.”

  “Yes, you do. But I wouldn’t bother with the effort.” Zhett stormed back to the control deck, not looking back.

  “Wait—give me a chance! Please?” But she didn’t turn around. Patrick stood near the Gypsy, feeling helpless. The tentative hope inside him sputtered like a fire doused with water. He hadn’t actually thought beyond this point, and his heart contracted painfully as he watched Zhett walk away. He stared after her, recalling every conversation they had ever had.

  Not exactly the way he had imagined the events would play out, but Patrick vowed to stay, hoping that Zhett would eventually change her mind.

  54 ADMIRAL SHEILA WILLIS

  At the Chairman’s orders, ten well-armed Manta cruisers flew toward Theroc, spoiling for a fight. The crew members, full of cocky bravado, were eager to make their mark. Willis could sense it. The soldiers had been trounced by hydrogues, defied by colonists, and tricked by their own Soldier compies, not to mention upstaged by the Ildiran Solar Navy and a bunch of verdani treeships. No wonder they were ready to take out their frustrations on a bunch of primitives, an exiled King and Queen, and a handful of traders.

  Willis saw it as an example of “kick the dog” syndrome. The Earth Defense Forces had severe issues of inadequacy. “Like buying a souped-up space yacht to make up for a penis deficiency,” she muttered to herself on the command bridge. “I haven’t got a good feeling about this whole mission, Lieutenant Commander Brindle.” She looked over at her newly assigned executive officer. “Not a good feeling at all.”

  Conrad Brindle stood at attention. Because of his lifetime in the military, he always seemed to be at attention, even when standing at ease. She suspected that his pajamas had straight creases and that he polished his exercise shoes. The man also looked as if he carried additional burdens since the end of the hydrogue war. His own son was a hero who had served with Willis herself, but she sensed there was friction between Robb and his father since the brave kid’s rescue. Willis didn’t ask about it. She was not a woman to meddle in personal problems unless they affected performance.

  “We have nothing to worry about, Admiral.” Even in conversation Conrad sounded as if he were issuing a report. “These ten Mantas are more than sufficient to stand against the defenses I saw at Theroc. King Peter proved he was a coward by leaving Earth when he did, and now he’s gathering other misfits around him. Our soldiers, on the other hand, are eager to make the Hansa strong again.”

  “Right. And if we click our heels together and wish three times . . .” Willis said sarcastically. “Mr. Brindle, maybe you can explain to me how we’re going to make the Hansa strong by attacking an unarmed planet whose independence has been acknowledged by the Chairman himself? Exactly which part of the law, or which terms of the Hansa Charter, does that follow?”

  A dark cloud passed across Brindle’s face. “We cannot ignore an outside group that poses a threat to the Terran Hanseatic League.”

  “Oh, I know all the on-paper reasons. That still doesn’t mean they pass the smell test.” She saw the disturbed expression on Brindle’s face. “Don’t you worry about me, Lieutenant Commander. I’ve got my orders and I intend to follow them. We’ll squash that rebellion before they know what hit them. I’m just
saying that I don’t understand the politics here, or what went on behind the scenes in that pissing contest between King Peter and Chairman Wenceslas.”

  She sat back and stared at the starry field ahead of them. Willis missed her own Juggernaut and hoped that General Lanyan didn’t end up damaging it. Since getting a bug up his butt about “dealing harshly” with any antagonist, Lanyan had been even more gung-ho than the soldiers aboard these ten Mantas. Unfortunately, her “temporary transfer” away from the Jupiter might well end up becoming permanent. When he was done with his mission, Lanyan wasn’t likely to relinquish her ship.

  Willis didn’t agree with a lot of the things that had happened recently. While fighting the hydrogues, the enemy had been clear and indisputable. Humans had been battling for their very survival, and there was no possibility of a diplomatic solution. Here, though, she didn’t know what response was truly warranted against King Peter.

  Many times, Willis had studied her command manuals, any advisory memos released before this situation cropped up, and the official chain of command, trying to figure out the Chairman’s defined place. She wasn’t so naïve as to believe that King Peter had really been in charge of everything, as the public was supposed to think; the Chairman and his cronies pulled the strings of government. However, in official documents, the King was listed right there in black-and-white as the EDF’s commander in chief. Legally speaking, the Chairman had no role with respect to the Earth Defense Forces, yet Basil Wenceslas had assumed control and was issuing orders right and left.

  Very troubling.

  And now Willis found herself acting like one of those lockstep numbskulls who followed orders without questioning. The very idea made her squirm. Wenceslas had bent over backward to make the King his front man, his visible symbol, and sometimes his patsy, so that made it awfully tricky for the Chairman to brush Peter aside and discredit him.

  “How much longer until we reach the Theroc system?” she said.