The Gun Golems (Approaching Infinity Book 2)

by Chris Eisenlauer

  “At first, Bahahmeians were tolerated by the Secreians, but as the Bahahmeians pushed harder, violence began to erupt everywhere on Secrei. Overnight, the natives, every one of them, learned the language of Bahahmei and, though the customs and culture of the Secreians changed not at all, they attempted dialogs with their invaders and sought a semi-peaceful solution. These attempts were met with derision. The Bahahmeians, having mastered six of the seven planets, could not conceive of anything standing against Bahahm, not even another god.

  “The Bahahmeian presence on Secrei was still fairly weak. If from the beginning, they had had the white conductive mist they were able to cultivate on every other planet, they would have known immediately that the black swamp was Rasthain, a being not unlike our Emperor.

  “Rasthain ruled the people of Secrei, kept them like cattle to feed him with blood—”

  Witchlan made a noise like a cough and startled Cranden into pausing. Witchlan nodded apologetically. “Please, continue Professor.”

  “Uh, yes. . . to feed him with blood, which was his sustenance. Every primitive man, woman, and child on Secrei was in thrall to Rasthain. He existed everywhere on the planet and came to them in their dreams while they slept or in blood-induced fever visions while they were awake. Rasthain permeated every aspect of their existence.

  “So, with the invaders unwilling to leave under peaceful conditions, and his control over his own mutable people absolute, Rasthain turned the latter into soldiers. He did this by infusing select individuals with his power. I imagine it was very much like producing Shades. These new Rasthain soldiers quickly overwhelmed the Bahahmeians, killing them all and leaving behind only what the Bahahmeians built and brought with them.

  “Though the Bahahmeians hadn’t gone to war in generations, their unity allowed for thorough and expedient preparation. The loss of life and the affront to Bahahm were more than reasons enough to go to war so the Bahahmeians did. . . and they were crushed.

  “Perhaps thrilled by this new pastime of war, Rasthain was no longer content to remain on isolated Secrei. Launching a breeding contingent amidst countless spores through space, the swamp god traveled to the sixth planet. While not physically connected to the swamp on Secrei, what arrived on the sixth planet was still Rasthain and had access to all the resources Secrei could provide to speed its growth and development. Distance was not a factor. Because of this physical and psychic network, the Bahahmeians found that destroying any single part of Rasthain proved to be difficult if not impossible and that conventional methods for waging war were wholly insufficient.

  “The arrival of Rasthain on the sixth planet, even before aggressions began, did not go unnoticed. The Bahahmeians had instruments to warn them of course, but Rasthain’s entry into the atmosphere, which was already replete with the white, conductive mist, is to be likened to pouring ink into a glass of clear water. Everyone knew without having to see that their world had been befouled by something alien and malign. But knowing was not enough. The last communication came sometime in Year 559. Rasthain and his soldiers grew fat and strong on the blood of the former inhabitants and soon the sixth White Planet dimmed and was overrun with a network of black swamps, a mirror of Secrei.

  “Rasthain did not stop, but began a planet hopping campaign, conquering each world as he went and establishing farms of Bahahmeians. With his own people free of their fate as food, Rasthain continued to improve them, making them stronger and stronger.

  “Bahahmei itself was by far the best-defended of the worlds and with the aid of favorable orbits, Rasthain skipped his enemies’ home world and boxed it in.

  “All this time, the Bahahmeians fought using conventional tactics with their fantastic technology, but even from the beginning they believed that the struggle transcended the physical, that it was about purity over corruption and that purely physical means would never overcome the swamp god.

  “As swamps overtook all their colonized worlds, the Bahahmeians became desperate and began a series of experiments. The Gun Golems are the end result of those experiments. A fusion of man, metal, and will, they proved to be the bane of Rasthain. There were one hundred and eight: eighteen units of six, each unit consisting of five males and one female, the females carrying the most devastating weapon, the Cleansing Gun. The metal was a durable alloy the Bahahmeians had been producing for centuries. Infused with the collective will of all the remaining Bahahmeians and made real by the hundred and eight men and women who sacrificed their humanity to give the Gun Golems life, the metal became poison to Rasthain and signaled the end of his reign over this system.

  “The Gun Golems were ready and none too soon. Rasthain had invaded Bahahmei itself and taken root. Perhaps the probes provided footage of the dead portion of Bahahmei before they were destroyed? That was the site of planetfall. Rasthain had been able to grow unchecked for some time until the Gun Golems were complete, but once they were, they eradicated the invading swamp-bred soldiers and rendered that portion of the planet entirely lifeless. Then, responding to the presence of Rasthain on the surrounding planets, the Gun Golems split up and wiped out all trace of Rasthain wherever they found it, turning every battlefield into a wasteland in the process. The Gun Golems’ limitless firepower made all the planets uninhabitable by human beings, and not even the Bahahmeians could make life possible on those planets again.

  “The last of the Rasthain swamps fell on Secrei around Year 581. Fighting had ended long before that, though—it simply took the Gun Golems that long to find and kill all that was unclean and purge the system. Once it was purged, the Gun Golems simply went dormant and that’s how they remained for more than ten thousand years until waking four days ago when they sensed the Vine through the wormhole.

  “All of my data comes from two sources. They have very complete records in their Public Archives regarding all that I have told you, but each and every Bahahmeian knows, in varying detail, the complete history of Bahahmei from the time of their unification. Taking part in the group mind allows instant transfer of knowledge. Those who are interested and want to know, simply take the information they want. A bit more esoteric, however, are the plans for the Gun Golems themselves. There was a complete set in the Archives. I made mental copies and destroyed the originals, but beyond what I have already told you, there is very little information, which could be used to formulate a strategy against the Gun Golems themselves.

  “Here is what I can tell you. They don’t communicate except among themselves and that communication is limited to such commands as come, go, wait, and so on. Their communication range is limited, but is greatly enhanced while within the psychic conductor. Their sensory range appears to be about double that of their standard communication range, and probably also receives a boost when within the conductor. I wish I could be a bit more specific about these ranges, but they change according to conditions—concentration of the mist, angle and degree of direct sunlight, and so on. We know that they could detect the Vine from Secrei, though, so I’ll let the Astrophysics Division work something out.

  “Their Free Movement System enables them to resist up to about twenty standard gravities, which is impressive when you consider that the males have a mass of one thousand kilograms, and the females seven hundred and fifty. They don’t eat or require fuel of any kind and they don’t appear to tire.

  “In case there was any doubt, Director Scanlan’s theory about ammunition recycling appears to be correct, and according to specs, the system is one hundred percent efficient with zero loss of resources.

  “They are not discriminating in their target choice, and operate on the overwhelming directive to cleanse, to purge, to destroy anything perceived as unclean. While any number of other threats may potentially fall under the category of unclean, I am fairly certain that Rasthain and our Emperor are of a similar species—though I am, by no means, suggesting that our Emperor is in any way unclean. By the Bahahmeians’ definition, however, I believe that our Emperor is, more or less, the hereditary
enemy of the Gun Golems.”

  Cranden paused for a moment to allow his words to sink in. Nothing had changed of course, but having certain questions answered and fears confirmed weighed heavily on all in the room.

  “There are a hundred and eight monuments in every city honoring those men and women who gave up their humanity to protect their fellows and become the sword of their god. There are holidays observed planet-wide to commemorate their birth, their victories, their slip into slumber, and even one to celebrate their future return should they ever again be necessary. That last one has taken on a rather grim significance, but the people here are not worried. Their faith in Bahahm and the blade of his purity is unshakable.”

  Cranden’s face replaced the stream of images that had been filling the screen and he regarded everyone arrayed before him. “Perhaps some of you see where this is leading. While no direct method of combating the Gun Golems asserts itself, I believe we have two indirect options.

  “There is no doubt that their sun is unusual, especially with regard to the seemingly symbiotic relationship it shares with the white mist and by extension the people of Bahahmei. But it is by no means a god. I have spent hours searching for something even remotely resembling consciousness, but there is nothing. Bahahm is real, but unless I am missing something, is nothing more than the realized collective consciousness of the Bahahmeians themselves. The sun nourishes the mist, which provides the medium for their collective consciousness. In a very basic, even primitive, sense, since it is the root power source, the sun could be said to be a god, but it has no will of its own that I can detect. I believe the people of Bahahmei and their group mind provide the motivating force powering the Gun Golems. The first solution, which presents itself, is to destroy the sun. Destroy the sun and the system goes with it: all the planets, all the people, and likely, all the Gun Golems. The second, less dramatic solution is to destroy the people of Bahahmei and all trace of Bahahm with them. It is logical to assume that if we kill Bahahm, his soldiers will fall.”

  A rush of low murmurs shot through the room. Everyone was impressed with the thoroughness of Cranden’s report, but more than that, his solution was something they could accomplish with relative ease. Fighting the remaining eighty-eight Gun Golems head-on would surely cost them more lives and untold damage to the Vine. Destroying the sun or the even just the people would be simple by comparison and would provide the Empire with little or no risk.

  Witchlan looked around the room, taking in and recording with perfect accuracy every opinion. After a moment he spoke up, above the chorus of voices. “Thank you, Professor Cranden, for your report. Now, while it may be satisfying to go down to the surface of Bahahmei and wreak havoc, we will not be doing so. The Vine is too big to pass through the wormhole, so direct invasion is out. We could send a number of you by tether launch, but the Gun Golems would still be a threat, and at this point we would like to avoid any risk to the Empire we can. Here is what we will do. Within the hour, we will begin to saturate the upper atmosphere of Bahahmei with dummy seeds. These will rain down and cover the planet’s surface, making the planet itself a target the Gun Golems cannot ignore. I don’t mind telling you that having the Gun Golems destroy Bahahmei for us satisfies me on a particularly base level. Beyond that, however, it is the option that makes most sense, and it is well within our means to accomplish. But we won’t stop there. Just to be certain, we will complete the operation by detonating the sun. We want to end this as quickly as possible. Our schedule for departure has already been compromised and a swift, final solution is in order.

  “Hopefully this will be the last meeting concerning the Gun Golems. All of you are of course still on alert, but the offensive will not require your participation. You may take this opportunity to get some rest.

  “Mr. Barson, as a precaution against any uninvited surprises, I am having a Prisma Shield generator installed in Gran Kwes. You may wish to oversee the procedure.”

  “Yes, Minister,” Barson said.

  “Professor Cranden, you and Mr. Parish are to return immediately. All retired Shades, thank you for your invaluable help. You may wish to remain here long enough to witness the destruction of Bahahm and his Gun Golems, but you are free, released from further obligation. Thank you, all of you. That is all.”

  10. TOTAL ANNIHILATION

  10,688.053.2000

  The bombardment began. The six tether launch stations, each with their ten projecting tanks, were used in rapid succession. Every four hours delivery ceased for thirty minutes to allow the overworked facilities to cool and to replenish the seemingly endless supply of dummy seed packs. Within each lot of sixty packs a sturdy, remote camera was included, and images from all over beset Bahahmei were beginning to reach the Root Palace. These images were broadcast throughout the Palace—throughout the Empire—for all to see.

  The seeds brought on a terrible destruction. They peppered the planet, befouling even the atmosphere with their uncleanliness, but provided little more than a nuisance to the Bahahmeians by taking root in any organic matter with unnatural speed and vitality. The seeds were simply a means to summon the Gun Golems, who responded exactly as anticipated.

  Everywhere over Bahahmei Gun Golems fired relentlessly upon ever multiplying targets. People died in horrible bloody explosions; cities were systematically razed to the ground; forests were cut down and burned to ash; mountains were cracked open and pulverized. And still, the Gun Golems fired. Their design demanded it, until every trace of the unclean was purged.

  Among some of the dummy seed packs were special jelly treated seeds that bonded instantly to whatever they touched. These were to target the Gun Golems themselves and have them direct their weapons at each other. The female Gun Golems, though fewer, turned their bright cannons, their Cleansing Guns, into the air and cut great swaths through the raining seeds and their fellows alike. Nothing could stand against those swords of light, but though the Gun Golems could not differentiate their targets other than to tell whether or not they were unclean, all of them began to exhibit slightly altered behavior. They learned, it seemed, not to destroy one another. The people and the planet, however, continued to receive the misdirected fury of their very own god.

  Cameras were quickly destroyed, leaving holes in the record of planetary slaughter, but as the tether launch delivery cycle came back around to a given location, a new camera took position and resumed the feed. The composite picture that the various feeds produced made the Viscain Empire’s success undeniable. The Gun Golems were thorough, methodical, perfect.

  To see a planet ruined before one’s eyes affects different people differently. The people of Viscain made their livelihood by destroying civilizations and appropriating planets to provide sustenance to the Emperor. So, many cheered while watching the Gun Golems at work, praising the power, guile, and manifest destiny of the Empire. Some, with vengeance in their hearts, cheered at the irony of the Bahahmeians being destroyed by their own protectors. Some watched quietly, resolved to the necessity of the act to ensure their own survival. Still others watched, grinding their teeth, secretly bitter about being part of such a horrible travesty. There were all kinds of people in the Empire and as many opinions as there were individuals.

  Jav watched the bank of screens in one of the public halls of the Palace, seemingly unmoved by the carnage and systematic destruction.

  Next to him, Kalkin shook his head and sighed in disgust. “I can’t watch this anymore,” he said.

  Jav was surprised. “What’s the matter?”

  “I know what we’re doing is necessary, but broadcasting it, making it into a spectacle and turning it into an event like this. . .” He shook his head again. “I’ll see you guys later.” Kalkin turned and walked away, leaving Jav and Ren alone in a crowd of onlookers who were all wrapped up in the scenes unfolding before them.

  Jav watched Kalkin go then turned to Ren who was looking back at him. “What do you think, Ren?” he said.

  Ren shrugged. “I do
n’t know. We were hit pretty hard. It’s only natural to cheer for your side, isn’t it?”

  Jav nodded quietly. He didn’t know what to think. He owed everything to the Empire and was more than willing to fight for it. He knew that the Gun Golems were too great a threat to ignore, but watching them do the work of Shades with no ultimate reward of sustenance for the Emperor made him feel rather hollow. There was a sense of fairness or balance achieved by risking his own life that was absent here. He continued to watch the screens without really seeing them and grew more and more irritable as he ignored the dull, throbbing barb of his conscience.

  • • •

  After twenty-four hours of constant bombardment, the payload for the sun was readied and launched. Once it reached its destination, it detonated in the heart of what the Bahahmeians had called Bahahm, destabilizing and expediting the cycle of nuclear reactions that had been kept at natural equilibrium for untold eons. Over the next eight hours, the reactions built to a crescendo and on 10688.055 at 0335, a jet of explosive gas erupted from the wormhole between Planets 1397 and 1398, so shaking the firmament that both planets strained against the grip of the Vine.

  The hold of the Vine was absolute, though, and the Root Palace was of sufficient strength and durability that the occupants were only treated to the equivalent of a fairly strong earthquake. Almost everyone spent the morning picking up fallen articles and cleaning up broken glass. Several injuries resulted from the quake, but none of them were fatal.

  Of course all of the video feeds from Bahahmei were cut off, but the passage of the sun’s last shout through the wormhole was evidence enough of total and complete victory. Viscain had beaten the Gun Golems and physically erased all trace of their creators. Business as usual for the Empire.