Orion gave the clearing a timid look.
“Friend Ozzie, who are you talking about? I can see no one else here but us.”
“It’s watching. Aren’t you?”
“Who?” Orion pleaded.
“The adult community. The real Silfen.”
“Are they?”
“Oh, yeah.”
Orion turned back to the pillar. “So what is this?”
Ozzie sent a long breath rattling out through clenched teeth as he tried to calm down. It was hard. If he didn’t let his anger burn, he knew he’d wind up curled up in a ball weeping in sheer frustration. “Nothing. The most stupid insignificant piece of nothing on the whole goddamn reef. I used to respect the dude who came up with the design for the gas halo, I mean it is like impressive. Now, I think they’re the most anally retentive morons in the whole galaxy. You want to know what this is? Why it’s so completely visible, standing here all by itself, with the sunlight shining on it like it’s some kind of celebrity? It’s the reef’s goddamn serial number, man.”
***
MorningLightMountain detected the approaching ships while they were still fifteen light-years distant. Twenty of them were approaching the staging post star at four light-years per hour, the fastest human ships it had observed so far. That was to be expected. They had no alternative but to send their best weapons against the staging post.
Part of its main thought routines noted that every time some part of itself encountered human starships, they always flew faster than the previous time. The rate at which humans developed and advanced their technology base was atypical of their society as a whole, which appeared so disorganized, with numerous instances of leadership class and administration class corruption. Study of the mined data and human personality animations it had enacted showed that certain small clusters of individuals were capable of high-level organization within specialized fields. During the frequent outbreak of wars while they were still confined to their original planet, the “weapon scientist” groups were always deferred to by the leadership class, and given disproportional resources to complete their tasks.
It decided the leadership class must have reverted to its old behavior pattern and allowed the weapon scientist class increased access to resources. That development would have to be watched carefully; humans with their wild imagination might be capable of producing very dangerous hazards at a strategic level rather than the tactical level that they had engaged at so far. Fortunately, MorningLightMountain still had weapons capable of devastating entire star systems, which it had so far held in reserve. With preparations for the second incursion almost complete, it was now ready to use them against Commonwealth star systems. This time there would be very little resistance from the humans. The radiation would kill them all off, while leaving their industry and buildings intact.
MorningLightMountain refined and analyzed its sensor data, learning what it could of the distortions generated by each ship, the nature of their energy manipulation process. It began to prepare its defenses, halting the flow of matériel and ships to the new twenty-three worlds. Seven hundred seventy-two wormhole generators on the three remaining original asteroids orbiting the interstellar wormhole began to adjust their configuration; as did the five hundred twenty generators so far completed on the four new asteroids it had established. Force fields were strengthened around all the settlements containing immotile groupings. Weapons installations were brought up to full readiness. Attack ships moved to their departure locations.
The human starships began to slow. They came to a halt twenty-five AUs distant from the interstellar wormhole, and emerged into real space. MorningLightMountain immediately opened twenty wormholes around each starship. Six hundred missiles were launched through each one, followed by forty ships. It then modified the wormholes again to try to prevent the starships from escaping within their own wormhole, a technique perfected during the first stage of its expansion into Commonwealth space.
As soon as the human starships powered down their faster than light drive systems, they became immensely difficult to detect. Missiles were unable to lock on to anything. The sensors on all MorningLightMountain’s ships struggled to pick up any radiation emission; radar was completely ineffectual. Only the wormholes themselves were able to provide some guidance, their distortion waves revealing faint echo traces, though even those were elusive, never giving the same return pattern twice. The entire assault floundered.
Then a new distortion point appeared. Another. Five more. Within twenty seconds, three hundred small human vehicles were approaching the interstellar wormhole at four light-years per hour. As MorningLightMountain had predicted, the humans were using the same attack process they had used so effectively above Anshun.
Thousands of immotile group clusters began modifying the energy structure of the asteroid-based wormholes, aligning their openings on the faster than light missiles, interfering with their own exotic energy structure. Erratic bursts of radiation erupted along the missiles flight path as the conflicting distortions clashed, their overlap leaking back into spacetime.
The great deflection operation succeeded, diverting and disturbing the flight of the missiles, twisting them away from the gigantic interstellar wormhole and its massive supplementary assembly of asteroids, equipment, and installations. As the interference grew stronger, human missiles were torn from their superluminal flight millions of kilometers away from their target, traveling at close to ninety percent lightspeed. It was a velocity that gave even the tenuous solar wind particles a lethal kinetic impact. Furious spheres of plasma spewed out around every emergence point, far brighter than the local star.
A second volley of a hundred superluminal missiles raced in toward the interstellar wormhole. This time MorningLightMountain was more successful in locating their origin coordinates. Its own missiles were redirected. Thousands of fusion explosions saturated space where it suspected the human starships to be lurking. There were dark eddies within the tides of elementary particles. Sensors probed them, seeking the cause.
Three human missiles managed to get close to the interstellar wormhole before MorningLightMountain’s interference forced them out into spacetime. They instantly erupted into spears of relativistic plasma spitting hard radiation that burned out any sensor aligned onto it. A patch of solar wind over a million kilometers wide glowed a faint purple as it was energized. Several ships exploded as they were overwhelmed by the searing tide. Force fields protecting sections of the asteroids strained under the effort of withstanding the colossal energy input. Dozens of localized breakthroughs occurred, allowing shafts of X and gamma rays to slash across the equipment and machinery underneath. Four wormhole generators were immediately vaporized. Thousands of immotiles were irradiated, dying almost at once. Eight group clusters were lost. The interstellar wormhole remained unaffected, its force field holding against the electromagnetic blizzard. Slowly, the purple nebula darkened down to nothing.
Out on the edge of the star system, MorningLightMountain sent hundreds of ships racing in toward the little betraying knots within the nuclear plasma it had unleashed, firing their beam weapons and launching salvo after salvo of high-velocity missiles. The human starships retreated into their self-generated wormholes. MorningLightMountain managed to disrupt three of them, leaving them exposed to the full vehemence of its attacking ships. Their force fields were exceptionally strong, but not even those could withstand the intense assault it directed at them.
Three new explosions blossomed, almost unnoticeable among the deluge of elementary particles ripping through that section of space. MorningLightMountain’s quantum wave sensors observed the seventeen surviving human ships fly back into the void. It watched for a long time to see if there would be a second wave. No more starships came.
More supplies and apparatus came through the interstellar wormhole from its home system. It resumed its preparations for the next stage of its expansion into the human Commonwealth.
***
Barry and Sandy were so excited they barely ate a thing at breakfast, not even the scrambled eggs with crusted cheesefish that the chefbot had produced. Panda picked up on their mood and barked happily, wagging her tail as she went around the table, pleading for scraps.
“Can you take us up to the starships, Dad?” Barry asked as Liz put his plate in front of him. Sandy gasped, and paid very close attention.
“Oh, sorry, son, not today. The orbital platforms aren’t open to visitors.”
“I’m not a visitor,” he said indignantly. “You’re my dad, I’d be with you.”
There were times when Barry’s simple, absolute devotion brought a lump to Mark’s throat. “I’ll have another word with the boss,” he promised.
“Maybe we’ll smuggle you up one day.”
“And me!” Sandy insisted.
“Of course.”
Liz gave him an accusing glance across the table. He knew exactly what she was thinking: How are you going to keep that promise?
“Don’t do that,” Liz admonished Barry.
“What?” the boy protested, putting on his hurt innocence face. It was a very familiar expression.
“I saw you give Panda toast.”
“Aw, Mom, I dropped it, that’s all.”
“It had butter on it,” Sandy said primly. “And you fed it to her.”
“Snitch!”
“Both of you, shush,” Mark said. He tried to stop grinning as he read the news flowing across the paperscreen that was balanced on his coffee cup. It was difficult; this was a proper family breakfast, the kind he’d loved back in the Ulon Valley, and an increasingly rare event these days. It wasn’t that life here was hard—quite the opposite. The two-story house they lived in was built from shiny carbonsteel composite sections, assembled by construction-bots. But even though it looked low-cost from the outside, the interior was spacious, with luxurious fittings. Its kitchen alone probably cost more than the old Ables pickup he’d driven in Randtown, with every automated gadget known to the Commonwealth, work surfaces of Ebbadan marble, and cupboard doors made from brown-gold French oak. All the other rooms were equally well appointed; and if you lacked any furniture you could order whatever you wanted from a unisphere catalogue site and the project personnel office would arrange for it to be delivered. The same with clothes or food.
No, home life was easy. It was the work that devoured all his time, and kept him away from the children. Except today. This was his day off, the first one in a long time. They’d arranged for the children to skip school so they could all spend it together.
“Can we go now?” Barry implored. “Dad, please, we’re all finished.”
Mark stopped reading the article about the political battle to lead the African caucus in the Senate. He glanced over at Liz for permission. She was holding her big teacup in both hands. Most of her French toast was still on her plate. “Okay,” she said.
The kids whooped and raced out of the room.
“Make sure you use your toothgel,” she shouted after them. “And don’t forget your swimsuits.”
Panda barked happily.
Mark and Liz grinned at each other. “Do we get some time together tonight?” he asked, trying to be casual.
“Yes, I’d like to have sex, too, baby. If we’re not tired after today, that’s a definite.”
They shared a more intimate, playful smile.
Liz wolfed down the last portion of her French toast. “Humm, too much pepper. I’ll have to alter the bot’s recipe.”
He glanced at the broad picture window behind her, checking the weather. Liz always sat with her back to the window, no matter what room of the house they were using. “I hate this landscape,” she’d announced on their third day in the town. “It’s a corpse of a world, a vampire planet.”
“Looks like a good day,” Mark said cheerfully as the sunlight shone on the rock and sandy regolith outside. “The tarn should be warm enough to swim in.”
“Whatever.”
“Something wrong?”
“No. Yes. This place. It really is driving me crazy, baby.”
He held up the paperscreen. News articles were still flowing down it. “We won’t be here for much longer, one way or another. The navy fleet should be hitting Hell’s Gateway any day now.”
Liz glanced at the open door, and lowered her voice. “And if that’s not enough?”
“It will be.”
“Then why is Sheldon building this fleet?”
“Because he had a healthy paranoia back when all this kicked off. In any case, he’ll probably use the starships even if we beat the Primes back to their homeworld.”
“Say again?”
“The Commonwealth is all humans have; we’re all bunched up in one big group. Wouldn’t it be fantastic to set up another human civilization on the other side of the galaxy? It’d probably be completely different to this one. We know how to avoid our mistakes now, to build something new. You’d have enough volunteers to make it viable; look how many people settle weird places like Far Away and Silvergalde.”
“Uh huh.” She sat back and gave him a calculating stare. “And would that include us?”
Mark’s enthusiasm went into an unpleasant nosedive. “I don’t know. How do you feel about it?”
“I feel very strongly that the children are brought up in the safety and security of the Commonwealth, providing it survives. Once they’re grown up, and responsible enough to make their own choices, they can start thinking if they want to go gallivanting off into the wild.”
“Er, right, Sure. But it appeals to me.”
“I can see that, baby. And I’ll be happy to talk about it later, say, in about fifteen years.”
“Ah. All right, I don’t suppose this will be the only intergalactic colonization attempt. I think we’re shaping up to live in a real golden age. The Prime attack might well be the best thing that ever happened to us; it’s shaken us out of our complacency. Just think of it, fleets flying off into the unknown. I bet we even go trans-galactic one day. That would be the ultimate, wouldn’t it?”
Liz gave him a tolerant smile. “I keep forgetting how young you are.”
“You mean you wouldn’t go?” Mark asked, surprised, and not a little upset.
“I hadn’t thought about it, baby, is the honest answer. But do me a favor, don’t mention this to the kids; their world is turbulent enough as it is right now without introducing wild ideas like this.”
“Like what?” Barry asked. He was standing in the door, his coat trailing from one hand.
“Tell you about it later,” Mark said automatically. He winked. “When your mom’s not about.”
“Don’t you dare,” Liz growled.
Barry giggled happily. “Sure thing, Dad.” He pelted off back into the house. “Hey, Sis, I know something you don’t!”
“What?” Sandy squeaked.
“Not telling you.”
“Pig!”
Liz grinned and rolled her eyes. “Gonna be a long day.”
***
Mark had arranged to borrow a Ford Trailmaster7 from the garage. They all piled in, with Panda in the back, and he headed out of their big housing estate for the perimeter ring road. All the civil construction work had finished now. The town was as large as it was ever going to be, supporting twelve thousand technicians, scientists, and engineers who were busy assembling the starships in their orbital docks, and the crews who would fly them.
A bright sun shone down out of the light purple sky, glinting strongly off the town’s composite buildings. The ground between them was gritty sand scattered with flaking rocks; there wasn’t even a single weed growing anywhere. Nobody had gardens. H-congruous plant life wasn’t permitted here. Hundreds of modified gardenbots were on constant patrol in the town, spraying the sand with biological inhibiters that would prevent any kind of growth. Sewage from every building was simply tanked to Cressat, and from there back to Augusta, as was all the garbage. Nothing was allowed to contaminate
the pristine environment.
Liz wrinkled her nose up at the town as they sped along the ring road. “This place is like Gaczyna,” she said as they passed a Bab’s Kebabs franchise at the end of a strip mall.
“Where?”
“A place in Russia that they used to train spies during the Cold War. It supposedly had a perfect replica of an American town, so the agents could familiarize themselves with life in the West. That’s what this is, a replica of the Commonwealth. Everything we associate with everyday life is here, but it’s not actually real.”
“The Dynasty’s doing its best to make things comfortable for us.”
“Yeah, baby, I know. It wasn’t a complaint, just an observation.”
Mark nodded, and concentrated on driving. He was getting quite worried about Liz; the whole lifeboat venture had brought out a despondency in her that he found difficult to deal with. She was normally the sunny one, the one he relied on for common sense and optimism. Given what he had to tell her at some point today, her criticisms and moodiness weren’t good omens. He could see what she meant about Gaczyna, though. He’d never been anywhere with so many bots. The only people the Dynasty allowed here were those involved in building the lifeboats. There was no service economy; bots performed every domestic function; even Bab’s Kebabs along with all the other stores in the strip mall were automated. When a bot malfunctioned, it wasn’t repaired here; that would require a secondary industry, people not connected to the lifeboat project. He’d seen whole trucks full of faulty bots being shipped back to Augusta for maintenance. It was an expensive way of doing things, but it was the only way of sustaining the level of security that Nigel Sheldon insisted on.
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