by Neal Asher
At about twenty feet up, the armoured wall begins to curve down to form a ceiling, and at his back the thin aluminium alloy is supplanted by another layer of ceramal armour. Soon he exposes a pipe running along above the ceiling, and follows it to another armoured wall ahead, which curves sharply away to his right and left. The pipe enters this wall through a flange that is secured in place with ceramal rivets. Vrell pulls his particle cannon from his harness, then unplugs it from its main power supply so as to leave it reliant only on its internal battery. Dialling down its power to the minimum, and then setting it for one microsecond burst, he centres it over one rivet and triggers it.
The beam is barely functional, but still produces a loud crack and flash of greenish light. Moving the weapon aside, he observes that part of the flange is now missing, along with the rivet head. He moves on to the next one and the next, to burn away all the rivet heads in turn, then, levering with his claw, he pulls the flange free from the rivets and slides it back along the pipe before jutting his head forward and tilting it so that he can insert one palp-eye through the gap.
Amazingly, the Golgoloth’s defences aren’t as rigorous as Vrell supposed. This ceramal wall, which is only a few inches thick, forms a cylindrical chamber via which numerous pipes and optic ducts enter the sanctum below. Turning his eye, Vrell obtains a very good view of the Golgoloth, still frenetically working its machines as it fights the Jain computer-life attempting to seize control of this entire vessel. It will take, Vrell estimates, just seconds with the particle cannon at full power, to cut through, though that will drain its remaining charge of particulate matter. Still, he has enough projectiles available for his rail-gun to turn that creature below him to slurry. Not yet, however; first let the Golgoloth rid the ship of its Jain worms and viruses, and only then will Vrell change the current situation, radically.
A micro-drone rises into position before the Golgoloth’s natural eye, presenting on its flat viewing face a green-and-white schematic of a far sector of the ship, the various locations of hijacked components highlighted in pulsating yellow. Also monitoring this activity in two internal ganglia and one external one, the Golgoloth issues countermeasures and the yellow begins to recede in some areas; however, it begins to blossom elsewhere.
Not good enough.
The Golgoloth issues further instructions resulting in power surges aimed to bypass its own safety protocols, and the old creature observes the effect in that same sector through its optically linked eye. A long row of fuses blow along the interior of a mirrored square canister, as it rapidly fills with inert gas. Where the fuses disintegrate, white arcs flare as an excess of power surges into a circuit that should have shut down. A short distance away, a large laminar power supply suddenly explodes underneath a superconducting cable, severing it. Other cables throughout the ship are severed in a similar manner, and lasers, particle cannons, field generators, rail-guns and missile arrays instantly power down. The Jain computer-life might manage to access those other weapons, but simply will not have the current to operate them; though neither will the Golgoloth itself. However, one item of the hull weaponry remains usable: the U-jump missile the Golgoloth intended to fire at the dreadnought, and which it now controls through a secure channel it sacrificed several other systems just to preserve.
The old hermaphrodite now focuses on one of the stalked arrays of screens. Vrell and Orbus have driven off the remaining third-and second-children, a few of which can be seen still cowering in wet crannies here and there within the ship, and those brave first-children working their way down the outside of the Sanctum, to where a false ship’s schematic details a weakness in the walls, will eventually be dealt with. However, killing this Jain computer-life is like trying to stamp out a fog. The Golgoloth returns its attention to the micro-drone, and banishes it with the touch of a claw, whereupon another drone leaps into place. More schematics reveal that same sick yellow almost entirely shrouding a node in the ship’s systems which is surrounded by control icons: a ganglion. A simple instruction delivered here sends a coded pulse along an isolated wire to it, to operate a plunger that injects a lethal poison, and the ganglion dies, its entire nexus shutting down and killing the Jain worm growing within. Already it has been necessary to sacrifice sixty-two ganglia like this, also to isolate entire ship’s systems and to physically sabotage power lines to the main U-space engines, as just achieved with the hull weapons.
The Golgoloth feels a growing anger as it comes to understand that, no matter what worms and viruses it kills inside the main ship, they are still being propagated from the splinter. But it knows it will eventually win this battle, though the sacrifice that victory entails will be a big one. The real problem, however, is time. Even now something major is occurring within the planetoid, indicated by massive outgassings. The Jain are up to something there requiring vast amounts of energy in order to have such a widespread effect. Then there is the other problem: King Oberon will be arriving sometime soon, long before the Golgoloth gets a chance to repair those power lines and put the engines back online.
Out of necessity the Golgoloth kills off another two ganglia and, as a result, feels itself becoming just a little more stupid. It then observes the Old Captain returning to the Sanctum, covered in Prador gore, to plump himself down on the cowling of a filter pump beside the entrance. But where meanwhile is Vrell? That, it seems, might be another problem for, despite his size, Vrell managed to worm himself up into the ceiling vents, and from there to ambush the second-children to such devastating effect, but now he has completely disappeared. The Golgoloth is all too aware how those same vents give access to the ceiling space the first-children were using to reach the Sanctum’s inner wall, whilst knocking out a great many sensors, and that Vrell might currently be using that blind spot to do…something.
The Golgoloth was intending to send more robots into that same area to find out just what he might be up to, but unfortunately a Jain worm is now chewing its way through the control software of the robots in this same sector of the ship. Perhaps it should have acceded to Oberon’s request right from the beginning. Taking out the dreadnought upon first coming within range of it would have been easy–then no Jain, no Vrell and no utterly imminent Oberon.
No time for regrets.
The Golgoloth sends instructions to the only engines it still controls: the steering thrusters. Many of them instantly fire up about the equator of the ship, sending blue blades of flame spearing out into vacuum. The ship begins to spin ponderously at first, then faster and faster. The Golgoloth monitors the current situation through ship eyes and sensors it still controls within the vicinity of the splinter. Stress readings come through first, as damaged structure there begins to shift. A micro-drone rises into position to receive instruction, and a tap from one claw sends its isolated program on its way. The spinter did not hard-dock properly, merely crashed into its berth in the main ship. The program slips past the sick yellow of Jain infestation and trips numerous switches to a network of superconductors that in turn are connected to cylindrical charges of chemical explosive. They now detonate about the splinter in an even pattern, for the explosives were initially positioned there to drive out docking bolts for rapid escape, should the Golgoloth ever need to use the splinter for that purpose. Given an initial shove by these blasts, and assisted on its way by the main vessel’s spin, the splinter begins to ease itself out. The Golgoloth shuts off the steering jets, not now wanting another impact between the main vessel and the departing splinter, and grunts with satisfaction as it watches optic cables begin to tear loose, cutting off much of the flow of Jain computer-life from the splinter.
Immediately the portions of ship’s schematics currently presented by the micro-drones begin to look better as the Golgoloth’s hunter-killer programs make headway. Some ganglia and the systems they control begin to reconnect. However, the process is still a laborious one because, though physical connections with the splinter have been broken, the electromagnetic ones have not. Vi
ruses and worms are still being transmitted to the main vessel’s sensors. The Golgoloth sends another instruction to the steering jets, the moment the tip of the splinter clears the ship’s hull, first turning its docking hole away from it, next moving the main ship away. The old monster then summons to itself a micro-drone that is standing ready.
The splinter reaches a distance of two miles before its own engine abruptly flares into life. Doubtless the plan now is to crash it into the main vessel, but it is too late. The Golgoloth taps the micro-drone, which transmits its signal to the U-jump missile. The rail-gun launcher in which the missile sits now powers up and spits the missile out into vacuum. A mile out from the main vessel, a particle beam probes out from the splinter to lick on the missile for a fraction of a second, but the missile drops into U-space, disappearing from reality for the remaining mile.
The splinter seems to briefly turn transparent as the missile detonates inside it like a flashbulb inside a glass bottle. It bucks and bends at the point of detonation, starts to separate into two halves, but they disintegrate and are then vaporized in the spreading spherical blastwave. The Golgoloth reaches over to grab the stalk of one of its screen units for support, as the main vessel shudders under the blast. Through exterior sensors, where they survive for long enough, it observes the outer hull distort then heat up briefly, before internal layers of superconductor redistribute the heat. Numerous damage warnings call for its attention, but it ignores them, focusing on just one alert nearby, as it sends a single instruction.
Over to one side, a section of wall spins on a central axis, bringing three very surprised first-children right into the sanctum, while they are still cutting into the side of a wall that until then was an exterior one. After a pause they raise their paltry weapons, but a flat hardfield slams them back against the wall and pins them into place. Having rapidly defeated two attacks, the Golgoloth feels a surge of joy, until a concentrated blast above rains down chunks of broken ceramal, molten metal and a single mutated Prador wielding a rail-gun.
The shockwave and ship’s spin try to scour Sniper from his niche between the throats of the fusion engines, and his temperature rises in concert with his surroundings. He clings on grimly as molten metal rains down on him. Sensory input from his surroundings arrives both blurred and fragmentary, and internal diagnostic routines clamour for his attention with their lists of faults. Aware of what many items on these lists indicate, the drone simply deletes them. He can resist massive point temperatures from weapons strikes by distributing the heat about his body through an internal s-con grid. He can vent heat by emitting evaporants and convert it, sometimes, to other usable forms of energy. But sitting for over an hour in close proximity to a fusion torch has been like surfing on the chromosphere of a sun, and now this blast on top of all that is taking many of his internal components beyond the point of recovery.
The forces trying to fling him into vacuum slowly ebb, and the molten metal spattering his exterior begins to harden. He reaches out with tentacles that now bend like jointed limbs because so many of their motors, each previously operating like a separate vertebrae, have now melted and fused to adjoining motors. Laboriously he drags himself clear of the engines and scans his surroundings.
There.
An array of infrared radiator fins protrude a hundred yards away, almost certainly connected to internal superconductors–a typical construct to be found on any ship this size which is likely to end up in combat, their purpose being to shed internal heat caused by beam and missile strikes or imploding field generators, or to redistribute heat like that produced by this most recent blast. Sniper drags himself across to it, careful all the way to insert his tentacles in whatever nooks and crannies he can find, eventually pulling himself right up beside the array and wrapping red hot tentacles around it…and then sighing.
His temperature begins dropping rapidly, the cherry glow fading from his body and hardened metal flaking away, unable to bond to his outer layer of nano-chain chromium. He begins to inspect those diagnostic lists more closely. The coils of his particle cannons and the wiring to his rail-guns have fused, his lasers are scrap, his ability to communicate further than a few hundred yards is non-existent and his gravmotors just aren’t responding. He gives a little shrug. At least he’s fired off all his missiles down there on the planetoid–some of the chemical warheads would have been detonated by his recent roasting and left nothing but an empty shell. However, as his temperature drops, the routines finally begin reporting some good news. Parts of his internal toolkit remain functional; being mostly fashioned of high-spec ceramal, his steering jets and fusion drive still work; and his crystal mind has not cracked. He is seriously injured but not totally crippled.
What now?
Orbus and Vrell are still somewhere inside this ship, and he feels his first duty is to find them. He needs to sneak inside–and sneaking is something he has always been adept at–but this won’t be so easy in his current condition. First, then, he needs to find the resources hereabouts to repair himself. Again closely scanning his surroundings, he focuses on a nearby construct on the hull, which looks like a ring of iron standing stones. Doubtless they encircle some sort of weapons port and, if the design of this ship in anyway matches that of both Prador and Polity ships, the weapon will reside inside some blast-proof, partially self-contained blister–the kind of place he should be able to quickly isolate and which likely contains resources he can use.
Sniper lets go of the heat sink and begins towing himself across to the ring of extrusions. It is fortunate, he guesses, that this area of the hull has taken such a pounding, as that probably will have wiped out any sensors able to detect him. Finally reaching one of the monoliths, he clings to it and peers down into a dish formed within the hull, an octagonal opening at its bottom. His eyes are better now, since internal programming has been busy ironing out optical distortion caused by lens damage. The opening is some sort of rail-gun port–obviously not for launching inert missiles because it is just too big, yet conveniently big enough for Sniper to haul himself inside.
Easing himself down the slope, while still clinging to the monolith, he reaches out for the edge of the hole, grips it as best he can, then releasing his other hold, pulls himself over the edge and, scanning downwards, discovers that this particular weapon does not seem to be live.
Positioned in each angle of an octagonal tube leading down inside the ship is a rail: crescent-section, inner face micro-ridged all the way down, with doped superconductors. Coolant pipes, s-con cables and various control systems run through the jacket enclosing all these, and the only way out of this barrel and into the surrounding chamber will be either by cutting a hole through the barrel’s side or trying to open the loading mechanism far at the back. Sniper holds up his one spatula-tipped tentacle and inspects it. The microscopic chainglass teeth around its edge only extrude while actually in use, and are resistant to temperatures exceeding those he has recently experienced, but there is a short in the power supply somewhere.
Sniper sends a minibot telefactor scuttling like an ant down inside the tentacle. Halfway down, it finds the problem: a lump of something incredibly hard and glassy has penetrated, and split the coating over an s-con wire, shorting it against one adjacent motor. A simple enough problem to solve, if it wasn’t the case that thousands of other such failings must be dealt with inside him. Directly controlled by Sniper, the minibot cuts the wire free from its short point, reinserting it into its broken clamp, and welds that, then sprays over the break in the coating with a speed-set insulator. Next he reinstates an internal fuse and has the satisfaction of watching his cutter blur up to speed, before he inserts it into the wall of the rail-gun barrel and begins slicing.
At that moment one of his internal sensors, made to register disturbances in underspace and which he has assumed was burnt out, alerts him. Quickly analysing the signal he realizes that the sensor is running at less than 20 per cent efficiency, and only reacting now because something huge h
as arrived nearby.
Sniper pauses, then heaves himself to the mouth of the rail-gun and looks around, not even having to raise magnification to spot the massive upright ship hovering out there, just above this vessel’s horizon. Numerous smaller, silvery objects gather about it and, slowly increasing magnification, at each stage having to correct errors, he brings those objects into focus even as the vessel he clings to rolls slightly, throwing them higher above the ship’s horizon and also bringing the planetoid into view. He sees Prador dreadnoughts surrounding a ship that reaches fifty miles from top to bottom. Perhaps this isn’t such a great time to be crawling about in the throat of a rail-gun, but Sniper ducks down again and sets to work.
To Gurnard’s perception, the U-space signature is like a bomb going off, and when, moments later, a giant Prador dreadnought roars past, the ship AI realizes it might just be time to move. But to where, and then to do what? Gurnard focuses now on the Golgoloth’s vessel. Certainly the Jain were attacking it informa-tionally, hence the destruction of the splinter vessel, but perhaps it is still under attack and, it having sustained some damage, an opportunity to somehow get to Orbus and Vrell has opened up there? Gurnard fires up its fusion engine and speeds in that direction, not yet sure what to do, but certain that leaving the scene right now will be of no help at all.
