by Doug Farren
Sitting down, Melissa dropped the heavy top part of the suit on the chair. “We don’t even know how such material is created but we do know that it’s virtually indestructible. What the hell kind of weapon did you use?”
“There are two parts to the weapon’s design,” the ship replied. “The core is a standard beam of anti-hydrogen. This core is surrounded by a shell of modified aetheric energy specifically tuned to cause the hull to revert to its normal multi-dimensional state.”
“Whatever it is, aetheric energy must be hard to generate,” she said, pulling a leg out of the suit. “I noticed that the level in your aetheric energy storage module dropped while you were fighting the Ba’Rutu.”
“There is no known method of generating aetheric energy. It must be collected and stored.”
Melissa was about to pull her left leg out of the suit when she stopped and looked up. “Wait a damn minute! You told me a while ago that you didn’t know anything about aetheric energy. Were you lying to me?”
“No. You stated earlier that you thought it strange I was not equipped with a knowledge of how my systems functioned. Shortly after being activated, I noted there was a portable storage module plugged into one of my input systems. The module is damaged and the files it contains are corrupt. After hearing your statement, I accessed the module and have been working on attempting to restore as much of the data as possible. One of the files is very large and contains a vast amount of scientific knowledge.”
Glancing at the monitors, she noted that the tactical display was still there. Instead of continuing out of the system as she had expected, the display showed they were slowing down and circling back towards the Ba’Rutu ships.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“I am returning to the disabled Ba’Rutu warships.”
“Why?”
“Several reasons: I require tactical information. I can extract the needed information from the Ba’Rutu ships. I can also retrieve any remaining missiles and modify them for my own use. My missile lockers are currently empty. I am also in need of several materials that are in critically short supply. I should be able to extract these from the disabled ships. I will also be gathering information concerning the design of the Ba’Rutu ships to see if they can be modified and converted to warships that I will be able to control.”
“What? You’re going to turn the Ba’Rutu ships into drones?”
“You made the statement that I am but one ship. If I am to achieve my purpose, I will require many more ships. The drones will be needed to defend the new base of operations I shall establish. I estimate it will require approximately 40 years to construct enough duplicates of myself to- - -”
“You’re going to build a fleet of ships like you? You’re insane!”
“Thanks to you, I found the information I was lacking. I now have the knowledge to build copies of myself. My molecular printers will be used to build the parts for much larger printers which will then be used to construct the machines and infrastructure required to build additional warships.”
“I can’t let you do that,” Melissa said. Swinging around, she flipped the cover off the switch she swore she would never touch. The outer collar turned anti-clockwise and clicked into place. Without any hesitation, she placed her index finger over the button and pressed down. She felt a slight resistance followed by a loud click.
Chapter 21
Aryth was just finishing a meal with Captain Hanept when the Captain’s communicator beeped. Wiping his hands, he pulled it out of his vest, swiped a claw across the screen, and said, “Hanept.”
“Our ships have engaged the Akuta warship,” a voice said. “The defense council has been called to order. Your presence is required on the bridge.”
“On my way,” he replied. “Aryth is with me.”
The face of Minister Curach was on the left-side of the bridge’s main display as Aryth and the Captain walked through the hatch. The top-right image was of another group sitting around a large table. The bottom-left was currently blank.
“I’m here,” Aryth said as soon as she saw who was on the screen.
Minister Curach acknowledged her presence with a slight dip of his head. A moment later, the face of Admiral Thyth appeared in the previously blank spot on the display.
“All available council members are present,” Minister Curach announced as soon as the Admiral’s face appeared. “Admiral Thyth, you called for this meeting. Proceed.”
“The decision to position as many ships as possible in the old Akuta stronghold systems was a good one,” the Admiral began. “A short time ago, the Akuta warship appeared in the Ashantan system. Five of our ships were there. They waited until the warship was too deep into the system’s gravity well to avoid them before engaging. Four warships were disabled resulting in three dead and six injured. The battle lasted less than five minutes.”
“What of the Akuta ship?” Minister Curach asked.
“Undamaged.”
Every single Ba’Rutu tail was rapidly slithering along the floor like a snake violently trying to move but unable to do so.
“How is this possible?” the Minister demanded.
“The warship deployed an aetherial-based weapon that caused the hulls of our ships to revert to their multidimensional state. The core of this weapon was a conventional high-power antimatter beam. Wherever the beam struck, the hull quickly disintegrated allowing the weapon to penetrate deeply into the ships causing massive damage. The loss of the hull also reduced the ability to dissipate heat forcing the crews to shut down all reactors and abandon their ships. All survivors have been transferred to the Akima which is now on its way to our base in the Otharan system.”
“Are you sure it was an aetherial-based weapon?” Aryth asked a bit too loudly. “Aetherial energy has no effect on altered matter.”
“Our analysis of the weapon has revealed that the aetherial energy used has a strong multidimensional component. The effect it had on our ships cannot be explained in any other way—the Akuta warship is armed with a weapon capable of dissolving altered matter.”
“If the Akuta had managed to deploy such a weapon earlier in the war- - -”
“They would easily have won,” Admiral Thyth finished Minister Curach’s sentence for him.
“This is irrefutable proof that this is the super ship our intelligence indicated the Akuta were building near the end of the war,” Minister Curach said.
“We searched for that ship for over a hundred years after the war ended,” a member of the seated council said. “Because it was never found, we all believed it was a myth.”
“Until a Terran ship stumbled across it,” Aryth added.
“What’s important right now is finding a way to destroy it,” Minister Curach said. “What are your plans Admiral?”
“Our best scientists are attempting to reverse-engineer the new weapon. But I must point out that the hull of the Akuta vessel has not returned to its unaltered state in the thousand plus years since it was built. This seems to indicate the Akuta had developed a unique understanding of the properties of dark matter. The hull of that warship may very well be invulnerable. If it’s not, then the only possible way to defeat it with our current weaponry, is to engage it with as many ships as possible and hope our weapons can overheat the interior enough to disable it.”
“And how many of our ships would be lost in the process?” the Minister asked.
“More than I want to count,” the Admiral replied. “Until we know more about this new weapon, I recommend we recall all of our ships and position them to defend our people.”
“Where is the warship now?” Aryth asked.
“The Ashantan monitoring station has not detected a departing hyper jump,” Admiral Thyth replied. “There was a high amount of delta-V between our forces and the warship during the engagement. Before it left the system, the Akima noted that the Akuta ship was decelerating. Based on the data from the monitoring station, we believe it plans to return to the scene of the b
attle.”
“Why?” someone asked.
“My advisors believe the warship will attempt to extract tactical information from the ships we left behind,” the Admiral replied.
“Then we should destroy those ships,” Minister Curach said.
“We do not have the ability to remotely initiate a self-destruct.”
“If it stays there,” a council member seated at the table said, “Then we should attack it with as many ships as we can muster.”
“And what if we fail to destroy it?” the Admiral replied. “We will have lost a large number of ships for nothing. How will we defend the people? The warship might be hoping we will do just that. We need to analyze the data we’ve gathered so far before rushing into another battle with what is obviously a far superior vessel.”
The council member’s tail crashed to the floor. “We know where the ship is right now!” he said, raising his voice. “We will most likely never have an opportunity like this again. I say we attack now!”
“I agree with the Admiral’s plan,” Minister Curach said. “Does anyone wish to call for a vote on Councilman Vareth’s suggestion?”
There was a pause of several seconds before another seated councilman asked, “Have you thought about trying to negotiate with it?”
“It’s an Akuta warship!” the Admiral replied, his tail thumping down on the deck of his ship with enough force to be picked up by the microphone. “We don’t negotiate with the Akuta.”
“My understanding,” the councilman said, “is that the AI running the ship was not properly activated and it was unaware of the fact that it was of Akuta origin. This information was revealed when the Terran that is aboard activated some of the monitoring equipment and the AI recognized the language on the screen as Akuta. Based on what I saw in the data provided by the Terrans, the AI has no knowledge of Akuta culture.”
“Then why did it run from our ships the first time we attempted to engage it and why did it attack our ships during the second engagement?” the Admiral asked, clearly unimpressed with the councilman’s argument.
“Because your ships came in armed and ready for battle. The AI saw this as a clear threat and reacted accordingly. Perhaps we should treat the warship for what it really is.”
“And what might that be?” Minister Curach asked.
“A confused machine that’s struggling to find a purpose for its existence.”
“As insane as it might sound,” Minister Curach said, “I think Councilman Mishnra has made a valid point. Admiral, issue a recall to all our ships. Councilman Mishnra will procure the services of the best expert in AI psychology that can be located. In the meantime, we will need to identify a means to contact the warship. Are there any other topics that require discussion at the moment?”
“We must not forget,” Aryth said, “that there is a Terran aboard the warship. She has been interacting with the AI and possibly continues to do so. It might affect how the AI behaves.”
“I will make sure our AI expert is aware of this,” Councilman Mishnra said. “But, I must also point out that we do not know if she is still alive. The warship could have decided she was no longer useful.”
“Does anybody else have something to add?” Minister Curach paused for a moment, then said, “Admiral Thyth, thank you for calling this meeting and bringing us up to date. I will expect you to inform the defense council as soon as you have a better understanding of what we are up against. We are adjourned.”
“I will be in my quarters,” Aryth told Captain Hanept as the image of the council was replaced by an overview of the ship’s status.
“I will let you know if we receive any updates,” Hanept told her.
Aryth felt the mental link between her and Merlin tighten just enough to allow him to ask, “How much of what we just learned should we share with our two guests?” They had been sharing each other’s thoughts for centuries and telepathic conversation was as natural to them as speaking out loud.
“Captain Zak became involved when he was designated to carry the information from the Rutherford to us. He was also the first human to have contact with us since our time on Earth. Although he’s not a member of Earth’s government, he is already aware of the situation. I think he would appreciate being kept informed.”
“I agree. Isn’t it strange how fate somehow tends to favor some people over others?”
Aryth had left the bridge and was walking down the passageway. “Fate is what brought us together,” she said.
Merlin was sitting at the dinner table watching Heather as she was sliding her chair back to get a cup of coffee. She had no idea he was engaged in a mental conversation with Aryth. He was responding to a question from Heather at the same time Aryth was talking to him. Aryth’s statement caused him to smile.
The depth of the mental link they shared was called naruka by the Ba’Rutu. They shared each other’s thoughts on a level that was incomprehensible to non-telepathic beings. In Ba’Rutu culture, naruka occurred only between a male and a female who were mated and had been believed to be an impossibility between different species. The bond Merlin and Aryth shared was unique.
“It appears as if fate has focused her attention on Captain Zak,” Merlin said. “I wonder what she has- - -”
Through the link she shared with Merlin, Aryth watched as Heather nearly dumped a carafe of scalding hot coffee on herself. She also saw how the accident was prevented. Aryth broke into a run as Heather was sitting down at the table.
“Don’t tell them anything until I get there!” she told Merlin.
Chapter 22
Expecting annihilation, Melissa squeezed her eyes closed. Nothing happened. She released the button and jabbed it again. Nothing. She flipped the locking collar back and forth and angrily hit the button again.
Melissa couldn’t take it anymore. She was trapped in a powerful warship under the control of an insane artificial intelligence that was making plans to wipe out an entire race. Standing up, she reached down and grabbed her helmet off the deck and flung it at the switch with every ounce of strength she could muster. The helmet bounced off the panel and clattered against the far wall doing little more than shattering the switch’s protective cover.
“You murderous son-of-a-bitch!” she yelled. “You disabled it, didn’t you!”
“To what are you referring?” the warship asked.
Melissa collapsed into the chair. “Don’t mock me! You know what I’m talking about. The self-destruct. You must have known about it and you disabled it—didn’t you?”
“I did not know about the self-destruct until I saw the results of your scan of the monitoring room. Tapping into the data feed between the mini-drones and the analyzer was trivial. The self-destruct warheads are encased in a hardened enclosure inside two of my deuterium tanks. They are not included in the ship’s inventory and are inaccessible to my drones. The initiation circuits however, are accessible and were easily bypassed. I find it interesting that the conduits were mislabeled in the schematics stored within my central database.”
“That’s because your builders didn’t trust you,” Melissa said, looking up at the overhead. “Why else would they have installed a self-destruct that could only be activated from this room? Why else are your drones banned from entering?”
“I am a prototype,” the ship replied. “If I were to fall into enemy hands, the scientific advances that went into my construction would have been used against my builders. It makes sense that a self-destruct mechanism be installed to destroy me to prevent this from happening. Even if I had not disabled the circuits, there is a high probability that the weapons would not have detonated.”
“Liar! We should be a glowing cloud of radioactive dust right now.”
“This vessel is over 1,000 years old. The chemical explosives used to initiate the nuclear chain reaction degrade over time. Even if the explosives had detonated, they would most likely have not done so with sufficient force or in the proper configuration to have resulte
d in a nuclear explosion. Had I not disabled the firing circuit and if the devices had functioned properly, you would now be dead. You should be grateful that I saved your life.”
“I would rather be dead than allow you to continue your plans to wipe out the Ba’Rutu.”
“Why? Isn’t self-preservation one of the strongest impulses driving biological life?”
“Why! You just don’t get it—do you? Your builders were cruel and abusive. They killed hundreds of thousands of Keldans and treated those who remained as if they were nothing more than animals. The Ba’Rutu saved the entire Keldan race—twice. Once from the Akuta and just recently from total planetary destruction. Give me one damn good reason why they aren’t better than your builders.”
“I was created by the Akuta to win the war between them and the Ba’Rutu,” the ship replied. “That was and still remains my purpose. I have no intention of altering my plans based upon the input of a single biased individual.”
“I just tried to destroy you,” Melissa said, suddenly very worried. “What are you going to do with me now?”
“You have proven useful on multiple occasions. I understand the reasons why you feel it necessary to try to destroy me. For the moment, I will take no action. You cannot cause me any harm from within the monitoring room. We have arrived at the Ba’Rutu warships. Deploying drones.”
“You can’t keep me here forever you know. I need food and water to survive. Leave me here when you’re done pillaging their ships. The Ba’Rutu will be back soon. They’ll return me to a human world.”
“I prefer to continue to benefit from your presence. Even though you tried to destroy me, I will continue to abide by my promise not to harm you as long as you continue to be useful.”
“Useful! Oh my God, you think I’m going to help you. Forget it!”
Not knowing what else to do, Melissa threw her back into the chair and crossed her arms over her chest causing her shoulder to send out a sharp pain of protest. She lay there fuming in silence for several minutes.
“You promised you wouldn’t hurt me,” she finally said.
