Miranda's Demons

by Ian Miller

  "So I shall get to meet these aliens?"

  "Yes," Gaius said, "in the course of time."

  "You must realize," she said firmly, "that there are other aliens out there who seem remarkably unfriendly. I should warn you I shall do everything I can to defend Earth."

  "What I said before was for normal circumstances," Gaius nodded. "In some ways the awareness is there anyway, so the specific rules go out the window, but we've still got to try to make sure that we don't make the situation any worse than it would be."

  "That's all very well to take care of the long term," Natasha frowned. "We may not get there."

  "Indeed you may not," Gaius nodded, "but believe me, you've more chance with our help than without it."

  "So you'll help?" Natasha asked. For the first time, she had hope.

  "Yes, but help may be all I can give. Earth may have to do the bulk of the fighting." He paused, and then explained, "You are currently on the one main-line battleship we have. Another should arrive shortly, and the local Ulsian camp has a smaller ship, a bit like a corvette in your naval analogy, the Kuyrill's command a light pursuit ship, and we're up against about a dozen main-line battleships and about another twenty or so heavy cruisers. Their battleships are somewhat inferior to this ship, but numbers count. The Ranhynn are being asked to send a fleet, and if they do, your troubles are over, but you should assume they won't, at least not in time to be helpful."

  "They won't want to help?" Natasha asked is a slightly discouraged tone.

  "It's hard to say," Gaius said slowly. "Right now Kazyn would require them to, but light speed means we see nothing for about twenty-two years. They have received an instruction from Ulse, but look at it from their perspective. They know there's a major war going on elsewhere . . ."

  "Against the M'starn?"

  "Yes, you have seen part of the remains of a defeated fleet. Anyway, a ship passes by at sub light speed, sends the message 'Send all your fleet to Earth', and then disappears. What do you do?"

  "You don't leave your own planet undefended," Natasha nodded.

  "No, so, as I say, Earth may have to do much of the fighting."

  "Can we?" Natasha said doubtfully.

  "I really don't know," Gaius said softly. "Your first move should be simply to defend. There is the possibility they will simply repair their fleet and try to go home. After all, this system is not a lot of use to them, and eventually they have to face your neighbours. At that point they will be defeated. So what Earth has to do is make it look as if it will fight, and not be worth the effort."

  "So what about me?" Natasha asked softly.

  "Yes, what about you? I think we need a story. An assassination attempt was made on you, and you are now in a hospital on Earth, under guard, where nobody can get to you."

  "The Council will assume I'm dead," Natasha pointed out.

  "You can make statements on anything that comes to mind," Gaius pointed out. "I shall get Marcellus to send a message to Hadell. She'll make a 'Natasha' replacement that'll be good enough to fool anyone but close inspection, and I'll call in a favour from a small private hospital. You can order some Defence Guards to keep all and sundry away."

  "How? I'm here and . . ."

  "Give your spoken orders to Marcellus, and they will be transmitted."

  "And me?"

  "You stay here with me for about a week while we collect data, then we set up what we need to try to cure you."

  "Try?" Natasha asked.

  "I'm afraid that's all I can offer," Gaius said. "I can promise you one thing. You will either be totally cured, or you will die, and it will take no longer than a minute to find out which. Oh, and apart from any nerves you suffer from between now and then, it will be painless.

  "May I ask how?"

  "Teleportation," Gaius shrugged. "The issue is whether your mind can survive and emerge out the other side." He paused, then said, "I'm afraid you're so bad there is absolutely no other option."

  "I know," she said, "and at least I know there's no other option." She paused, then added, almost as an afterthought, "Oh, I'm not claiming I knew about that one." She looked at Gaius and asked, "Isn't that prohibitive from an energy point of view?"

  "In one sense yes," Gaius agreed, "however when we get to it, you'll see there's a trick."

  "And that's how you did your healing?"

  "Up to a point. For the broken arm you heard about, the fields force the joints together, link them, then move enough material to effectively weld the joints, if you like. For tumours, they, and rogue cells, are simply converted into small excretable molecules, but we can't do that for you because there'd be nothing left."

  "That's not quite following your own advice on non use of alien technology, is it?"

  "I needed some things from my own planet," Gaius replied, "and I felt I would like some others. I could steal them or I could buy them. To buy them, I needed money. Also none of my clients had any idea what I was doing, and even if they guessed, no technology was passed on. The restrictions are not primarily to do with the use of gadgets, but rather on controlling the consequences. Healing someone who does not know how it was done has no significant consequences, but giving an ancient king the power of a starship would be horrendous."

  "So where is this going?" Natasha asked firmly.

  "I don't know," Gaius shrugged. "You will have opportunities quite unlike most other people."

  "And you think I'll sneak off and . . ."

  "No, and don't worry about it. It's not your problem. The only reason I'm going through all this is to warn you that others may seem reluctant to help, and I hope you will understand why if they do."

  Suddenly the shrill sound of a primitive horn filled the air.

  "Come," Gaius said, taking her hand. A door opened, and they ran down a narrow corridor, and through another door. Through the door there was space.

  "Two seats!" Gaius ordered. Two seats became visible.

  "Walk to a seat, and sit in it," Gaius said calmly.

  Tentatively, Natasha took a step forward, half expecting to fall in the void, but there was support. She quickly ran to the nearest seat. She turned around and saw that the wall she had come through was gone.

  "Don't be frightened," Gaius said calmly. "There is an emergency, and consequently we have gone to battle stations. The entire command section is like a gigantic screen, and images of outside are being relayed as if there were no ship. Marcellus!" he called out loudly. "Nature of problem?"

  "Distress signal, Ulsian. Almost directly between Earth and us."

  "Full scanning! Inertial lock! Intercept to arrive stationary in minimal time!" Gaius called out the sequence of orders calmly.

  "We're going to investigate," Gaius continued quietly. "Please, sit back and relax."

  Natasha found it hard to relax as the Earth began, imperceptibly, to grow in size. Then, suddenly she saw a dark mass of fragments.

  "Oh no!" she called out. "That's the robot ship."

  "Nine Earth ships destroyed," came a report, presumably from Marcellus. "Distress signal is coming from one of them. It has no sustainable life support, but there are two humans inside, still alive. M'starn vessel, under full drive, heading for Sol eight system."

  "Marcellus, would you please take a shuttle and rescue the two of them, and when you bring them back, scan them and prepare them for the inertial lock."

  Marcellus disappeared, and Gaius selected images of each of the other ships in turn, and magnified them. Each was little better than bits of scattered scrap metal, space junk of the worst kind. Eventually the image of the one craft with survivors appeared. Natasha examined in dismay what was left of the Earth's most advanced combat craft. The ship had been severed in the middle, and clearly from the melting and vaporization of the rear it had been struck by a tremendous flux of something. The energy contained in the blast that did that must have been so immense, so far away from anything Earth could do. Natasha shuddered as the enormity of her problem began to dawn.
An eternity seemed to pass as the shell tumbled helplessly in space. Then the door opened again, and there were Harry and Marisa beside Marcellus.

  "Welcome aboard the Actium," Gaius smiled. "

  "The Actium?" Harry nodded. "That's Roman!"

  "The battle where Octavian defeated Antonius," Gaius confirmed.

  "So you're telling us," Harry stuttered, "to use a phrase from physics, you've been there and back?"

  "Very good," Gaius replied. "In a few moments I shall tell you my story, but first things first. We must acquaint you with the teleport field."

  "Teleport?" Harry gasped. "You mean, that exists?"

  "Oh yes," Gaius grinned, "and here's a chance for another small bet. Say, a drink, paid by the loser. Are you game?"

  "Oh dear," Harry shook his head in mock despair. "OK, I'll shout you a beer."

  "You're giving up before you even hear the bet?" Gaius mocked him.

  "Can't see how I'll win," Harry laughed, "but I could hardly be scared of losing a beer, could I?"

  "The bet's small because I expect to lose," Gaius shrugged. "OK, here goes. For you to win you have to tell me what's the main use of a teleport field."

  "What?" Harry asked in surprise, then he shook his head.

  "I think you heard," Gaius continued with his challenging grin.

  "Yes, I did," Harry said. He paused, and then a slight smile crossed his face. "I can only guess."

  "Go on!" Marisa urged him.

  "My guess," Harry said, "based partly on the way the bet was made, and partly on the fact that Gaius thinks I can work this out . . ."

  "Go on!" Marisa continued.

  "If I can work it out, there has to be a unique answer," Harry said, "so I'm going to guess it's to keep things in the same place."

  "What?" Marisa gasped, almost in dismay.

  "The crew of these advanced ships undergo incredible accelerations," Harry shrugged, "and . . ."

  "And that is only possible if all molecules in your body stay in the same place with respect to each other, and the ship," Gaius nodded. "See, I knew you'd get it." He turned slightly, and called, "Marcellus! Four litres of standard Actium beer please." He then addressed the ship. "Actium! Two additional seats. Full shielding! Inertial lock on all passengers! Maintain full battle readiness! Marcellus, status of rear space please."

  "Rear space clear!"

  "Engage pursuit mode! Minimum time intercept!"

  Nothing much seemed to happen. Gaius nonchalantly pointed to the new seating, and the group sat down, Harry and Marisa fidgeting noticeably. Gaius smiled at Harry, and said with a confessional tone, "You deserve your beer, because in some ways I set you the problem in a devious way that should lead you to the wrong answer. A more correct translation of the name of the field would be an inertial locking field. It can give some effects that are called teleportation in that language, but beaming a person or an object from A to B is not part of it. However, if there is appropriate material at the other end, you can often synthesise a copy. Ah, here is Marcellus."

  Marcellus then produced a pitcher of brown fermented liquid, and several glasses.

  "Standard Actium beer?" Harry quizzed.

  "This is as near as possible to the recipe developed in ancient Egypt," Gaius said, as he began pouring. "The only differences are that it's cooled better, it's filtered better, and it's carbonated as well as a barrel would be when it's first opened. I thought you'd find it interesting."

  Harry looked at the glass a little doubtfully, then he shrugged and took a sip. "Not bad," he said, with a touch of surprise.

  "It'll put you in a better mood to think about your erst-while enemy," Gaius shrugged.

  "Are we going after them?" Harry finally asked.

  "We are indeed."

  "We'll never catch them," Harry said miserably. "They can accelerate at tremendous speed."

  "Accelerate at speed?" asked a bemused Gaius.

  "Not well put," Harry conceded. "We can discuss definitions while they escape."

  "Look back at the Earth," Gaius suggested.

  Harry looked back, and gasped. Already the globe was noticeably smaller.

  "We are accelerating at about four hundred g," Gaius went on. "You don't feel it because of the inertial equivalence lock and what you would call the artificial gravity. What is happening is that as the ship is accelerating, every atom of your body is undergoing the same acceleration. As such, there are no differential forces within you, so you don't feel anything. As an aside, every atom on the ship is also receiving the same teleport field, and if it were not, the ship would tear itself to pieces."

  "They've got a good start, though," Harry said. "Are we that much faster?"

  "We are faster, but it doesn't matter. We must catch them, because by the time they get about half way there, they will have to turn around and decelerate just as strongly, unless of course they want to come into their base at a substantial fraction of light speed. Now, while we wait, my story. But first, adjust your seats, and get comfortable. They can move right back to be divans, or anywhere in between. There's a little control at the top, and when you press that, you can mould the seat to whatever position you wish."

  Gaius watched as the others adjusted, and to demonstrate, he converted his own seat into a divan. Gaius took a second glass of beer, suggested each do the same, then he stared wistfully into space as he began.

  "Let me introduce myself. I am Gaius Claudius and I –"

  "I thought . . ." Harry started, then stopped.

  "You thought what?" the Roman asked with a slightly irritated look.

  "I thought Romans had three names," Harry replied. He fidgeted a little, as if unsure, then went on, "Surely you had a middle name?"

  "Not all of them, but I have. I am of the Claudian gens, so Claudius is my middle name."

  "Oh."

  "Oh what?" a more than slightly irate Natasha asked. Marisa was looking between Harry and the Roman with a look of uncertainty.

  "I'm sorry," Harry muttered. "I put my foot in it, and it didn't help."

  "You were trying to check on my story?" the Roman asked slowly.

  "You don't have to be telling the truth," Harry shrugged.

  "Indeed I don't, and it is quite right of you to think of checking. And don't look so nervous. That question put you up in my estimation. Anyway, where was I? Yes, the beginning." He paused, took a sip of beer, then continued in a slightly wistful tone, "I was born in the year of the third consulship of Tiberius Claudius Nero, and I came from an inauspicious stub of the Claudii. The family was called to Capraea where I made an impression of sorts on the whole imperial family. Tiberius, as head of the Claudii, ordered my third name to be struck off, added the cognomen Scaevola because I am left-handed then he ordered me to go to Rhodes and study, then earn an agnomen.

  "In Rhodes, one day I went to a temple and had a vision from Pallas Athene, and that vision gave me a prophecy, which has now more or less come to pass, although it has also been updated." He turned to Natasha, and added, "Part of the update was that when the ugliest woman in the world was threatened, I should flee." He shrugged, then faced the group and continued, "One of the last parts of the prophecy was that I would enter the fora and see them in rubble. In a sense," he said, turning to Harry and Marisa, "I was completing that part of the prophecy when we met."

  "The cynic about prophecies would say that was self-fulfilling," Harry pointed out. "You went there because you were told to."

  "That is perfectly true," Gaius nodded. "The question is, why was I told to?"

  "You're asking me?" Harry replied in surprise. Then, after a pause, he frowned and asked, "You don't really believe that do you?"

  "To start with, no," Gaius shrugged, "but since then, so much has happened –"

  "Self-fulfilling or vague," Harry challenged. "And why were you told to go to the forum, dressed like that, if it weren't something you'd do to complete the prophecy? I assume this Athene never specified when?"

  "Th
ere was no suggestion it wouldn't be in a normal lifetime," Gaius conceded.

  "Yeah, right! All that was predicted was that you'd return to Rome in your lifetime, and do something that you'd do to fulfil the prediction. You'd be bound to return to Rome unless you died, and dead people don't argue."

  "Suppose the answer is so that I would meet you?" Gaius suggested.

  "How do you work that out?"

  "Well, if I were not dressed in Roman attire, with the crown of grass, would you have approached?"

  "I guess not," Harry admitted, "but that's obscure."

  "The last part of the prophecy was that I would meet the ugliest woman in the world," Gaius added. He turned towards the Commissioner and said, "But for young Harry, would you have come? And forgive me, but I feel the description is valid."

  "Well, thank you for that compliment," Natasha said with a grated tone.

  "Hopefully, it will be for your benefit," Gaius shrugged. "Anyway, back to my story. Following what I thought at the time were Athene's instructions, I spent some time on trying to come to grips with the problems of physics, and I even had a go at designing a steam engine. Also, I became a soldier. Thanks to some imperial assistance, I gained influential positions in the Roman army and very quickly gained considerable battle experience. The men liked me, or at least respected me, for I was reasonably efficient and I won what skirmishes I got into with ease. I had studied military strategy, and I was fully familiar with every campaign of note." He paused, passed his hand across his forehead, brought it down, and began rubbing his chin. "Those days seem like only yesterday," he said slowly, shaking his head slightly, "and in those days I often sought seclusion, to study, to improve myself. Now I have all the solitude and more information than I could have ever dreamed of. I have reached heights beyond the comprehension of my friends. I have walked among the Gods, and I have thrown bolts that dwarf those of mighty Jupiter. But how I would trade it all, just to see those friends." He paused again, and stared, his face as empty as the void he faced.