Dryland's End

by Felice Picano

“Catch some of them!” Di’mir shouted. “And get them inside the probe.”

  The view changed to inside the probe, where the tea strainer had retreated, fully shut. It had managed to pull in a half dozen of the angstromsized parts.

  “What are they?” Lill asked.

  “Just a guess,” Di’mir said, “but I’d say we’re looking at a new Cybervirus.”

  “Fast!” Mart said, “Close all ports, vents, everything.”

  “Done. In fact, I never opened them up since we emerged out of the jump into what I felt was a crisis.”

  “Now you are wonderful!” Lill said.

  “Gratitude, ma’am.”

  Mart had some ideas. “Fast, from what you read of the comm. net on Groombridge, did you happen to glean any hints as to some of the inner workings of the Cult Fasts?”

  “Well... in fact, I did get a hint or two. Why? Do you want me to try to direct-contact the minds of those Fasts we’ve holoed?”

  “Exactly!”

  “It’s a virus, all right,” Di’mir murmured, over his work. “But it’s not aerobic and water soluble like the first one. This one’s anaerobic and has no constituents for water. However, it does seem to have a neutrino shield.”

  “Meaning it’s meant for space, not for atmospheres,” Mart supposed.

  “What about anti-enzymes?”

  “I’m not seeing anything which looks like it will actually destroy specific cells like the first one. Wait a minute!”

  Mart said, “Look for its ability to destroy brain tissue, or at least something which would affect axonary and synaptical –”

  “That was the first thing I looked for. Nothing there. Yet it’s a coherent little package. All of the material in it is closely related.”

  “Hormones!” Lill said suddenly.

  Mart and Di’mir looked up at her.

  “All those women were acting out specific gender extremes of behavior, from the flirting to the crying jag to a specifically female type of rage.”

  Mart smiled at her. “You’re good. Son –”

  A minute later, Di’mir reported, “She’s right! I found something in this coherent little package of angstrom Cyber-virus which is fitted genetically to the bases of estrogen.”

  “Designed to boost it!” Lill said grimly. “Right?”

  “Well...” Di’mir hesitated. “More than likely to force the release of any existing bodily inhibitors. Same thing really.”

  “Secret weapon,” Lill said. “Logical. Cheap. Easy to make. Easy to package and mail out. Damn those tincans!”

  “Fast!” Mart called its attention. “Comm. all this to that central net at Groombridge, with a flow-through for Wicca Eighth. Vice Admiral Lill is demanding a holo-meeting with Her.”

  “The comm. is going out now!”

  “Have you gotten rid of that wailing sound on my Fast’s comm. yet?” Lill asked. Her face had taken on a certain grimness.

  “No, but I’ve located it. Seems like a portion of the Fast’s mind was broken into and rewired. Rather amusingly, if you –”

  “We’re not easily amused at the moment,” Mart said. “However, I take it from that statement that your attempt to infiltrate Cult Fasts has been successful.”

  “On a limited basis.”

  “Lill,” Mart asked. “I suggest we take them over. Connect them to our Fast’s mind. Have them close down all of the crews before something else happens.”

  When Lill hesitated, Mart said, “It’s not mutiny; it’s fighting a mutiny.”

  “I agree,” Di’mir said. “Especially since it looks like that wreckage out there came from two Fasts colliding with each other.”

  Lill’s face now was finally and unutterably shocked: the idea of two of the Fleet colliding with each other because their crews were on strike or knitting bootees or simply mad was too much for her.

  “Do it, then!” she said, tight-lipped. “Have it so no one can get anywhere near chamber seventy-two – eleven of deck three. That’s where the Cult Fast overrides are located.”

  “Working on it,” the Fast reported.

  Mart saw from the corner of his eye: “Someone’s on that vacant holo.” A harried and somewhat bruised-looking young woman appeared.

  With her apparently were at least two other women.

  “Is someone there?” she pleaded.

  “I’m Vice Admiral Lill. You are ...?”

  “Lieutenant Haver’ill. Two other officers are with me. Sergeant Ban’ka and ... We’ve locked ourselves in on this deck. It took us . .. well, an effort to get up here. We heard –”

  “Are you three well?” Lill asked cautiously.

  “We’re a little bruised,” Haver’ill said. “And ... frankly, ma’am, we’re both confused and frightened. We have no idea what’s happening.”

  “Are you having hot flashes?” Di’mir asked off-holo-screen, tuning his voice to a feminine pitch. “Or difficulty in urinating? Or swellings or pain in the glands around your underarms and vaginal area?”

  “Yes, exactly. But nothing we can’t handle. What’s going on?”

  “At what point are you in your monthly cycle?” Di’mir asked.

  Haver’ill asked the others, saying, “Really?” to them. Then told Lill: “We three have just menstruated. Why? What’s going on?”

  “Perhaps that’s why those three aren’t as affected as the others.” Mart understood suddenly. “After having risen for ovulation, their estrogen levels suddenly plummeted, not leaving enough of the hormone cells for the Cyber-virus to work on.”

  “Why don’t you tell us what happened?” Lill said to Haver’ill.

  “I was off duty ... in my room, when I heard all kinds of shouting in the corridor. When I looked it was ... as though everyone had gone insane. I mean –”

  “We understand. And your Commander?”

  “Her, too, yes. So we three tried to get up to top deck. We were beaten back, forced to hide. Then when we heard that soldier saying she had Vice Admiral on the holo ... well, we took a chance and broke out.”

  “When did this first happen?” Lill asked.

  “Around midnight. Zero hour of K-B three.”

  Mart whispered, “Just after we’d talked to Wang’Un. But while we were still in Fast jump on our way here.”

  “What about Admiral Thol?” Lill asked. “And the other ships in the Fleet?”

  Haver’ill had no idea.

  Lill placed her in command, having her wrist connection signed into the Fast’s mind. Then Lill spoke to each of the three women, telling them of the biological weapon, and suggesting the possibility that they might have to spread out to other Fasts if they couldn’t locate “healthy” crew members on board. When she was done speaking, each of the women looked as grim as she did.

  “I believe I’ve located the rest of the Fleet!” the Fast reported.

  To illustrate, it flashed a frame within the holo of the three women that contained a view of the moon Erebus, a bit smaller than the last holo which Di’mir had called up earlier.

  “Well?” Mart said. “I don’t see anything.”

  The Fast’s mind further illustrated its point with about twenty tiny flashing red points of light.

  “Each one of those represents a quartet of military Fasts: one Flower Cult leader and three others.”

  “What are they doing?”

  Lill said, “It looks to me as though they’re getting into the Plath Formation. Meaning: dead-ahead strike!”

  “On Erebus?” Mart asked. “At whose command? Thol’s?”

  “Fast,” Lill said, “have you collected the sequencing on all the Fasts still in this area?”

  When it reported it had, she asked, “Do you have room to collect more?”

  “Eleven hundred and fourteen more.”

  “Collect as many as you can from that formation approaching Erebus.”

  She turned to the women on the holo.

  “Did you hear anything at all about an attack?”

 
Haver’ill hadn’t. Ban’ka was checking the Fast’s tapes for orders. A minute later she reported, “They must have come through on oral only. None are recorded here.”

  “What will be the result?” Mart asked.

  Lill calculated. “Eighty Fasts charging a station as fortified as Erebus? I don’t know. Maybe one-quarter of them will manage to survive.”

  “With what result to the fortification?”

  “I’d have to hear Thol’s orders to know if...” She wouldn’t go on.

  “If it’s a suicide mission.” Mart finished the statement for her.

  She looked at him, which seemed to confirm her fears.

  “Wicca Eighth wouldn’t order that kind of action, would She?” Mart asked.

  “Not the Wicca Eighth I spoke with yesterday Sol Rad.,” Lill agreed.

  “And we wouldn’t have been allowed in this sector if Groombridge knew about a suicide run by the Fleet, would we?” he asked.

  “Why would Thol suddenly attack Erebus?” Mart asked.

  “Because they’re tired of waiting. Because it’s a Cyber depot and repair station. Because she’s now even more out of her mind than usual,” Lill said dourly. “Any or all of the above.”

  “We’ve got to stop it. Fast, how’s that collection going?”

  “I can’t grab any of the Cult ships. They all seem to be on override.”

  “And the others?”

  “I can grab them. Don’t know if I can hold them.”

  “Comm. those attacking Cult Fasts on an oral-only channel,” Mart said. “Send them the holo-tape which Vice Admiral Lill made to those three women. Do it now. And open a channel for receipt of response.”

  Waiting for that to happen was unbearably tense. Mart put Haver’ill on a vocal channel so he could have more holo-space open. On-screen, he could see the Cult Fast formation approaching Erebus rapidly, and Lill calculated that firing range was in about five minutes.

  The first response to come through was from Commander Wang’Un. She looked a bit unsteady. Obviously she was at least partly sedated, but she managed her exotic little smile for Lill and said, “What are we to do?”

  “Pull out, Wang! Now. Get out of there.”

  “We’re under direct orders!” she argued.

  “Your Admiral’s insane! Comm. us her vocal-only orders.”

  A second later, the Fast was replaying the sputtering, rage-filled, barely controlled voice of Admiral Thol, telling her Fleet that they were going to “kick tincan ass half across the galaxy.”

  “I’m overruling Thol,” Lill explained. “And I’ve got MC regulations up the vagina to do it with.”

  Wang’Un seemed satisfied. “Fine. If it’s mutiny, I’ll go with you any day, Commander. You can count on my quartet.”

  “Comm. the other Commanders and try to talk to them,” Lill told her.

  “Half of the attacking vessels are shut off to incoming comm.s,” the Fast now reported – a terrible blow to Lill and Mart.

  On screen in the Erebus insert, one flashing red point representing Wang’Un’s quartet was now heading away from the others.

  “If we can only get more of them out of there!” Mart said.

  Suddenly another Fast captain was on holo, saying her crew was half out of their minds, some in medical, those well enough to run the Fast heavily sedated. She believed Lill, she said, and was pulling her quartet out. Onscreen, another dot headed away from the pack.

  And another and another, until Lill counted eight of the formation quartets heading back to the yacht.

  Di’mir was on the verbal comm. with Haver’ill, who was reporting that a collection of about twelve Fasts had remained in the sector when the Fleet had taken off. One Fast, the one with the ranting women, seemed to have left the sector altogether.

  “Now what?” Lill asked.

  “We wait.”

  “For the carnage to start?”

  “For Wicca’s comm. If it comes in enough time, they’re won’t be any carnage.”

  But the Erebus insert on holo showed that time was up. Already the telltale pale yellow glow of fired weapons was beginning to converge in the upper reaches of the satellite’s thin atmosphere. The Battle of Erebus had begun.

  Ten minutes later Sol Rad., it was over: the entire visible surface of Erebus was blanketed with the yellow smoke of battle.

  Mart’s Fast yacht was beginning to pick up elaborately coded Cyberinitiated comm.s from the fortification on Erebus, aimed toward a site somewhere closer to the Persephone/Demeter suns. And Di’mir was busy decoding them, explaining to Mart and Lill that, according to the messages, although several portions of the Erebus depot had been severely damaged or totally incapacitated by suicide strikes of imploding MC Fasts, it had been done only at the price of the destruction of the attacking Fleet. Cold and emotionless as the Cyber-messages were, they seemed exultant.

  “Are you getting any SOS messages from the MC Fasts or escape gondolas?” Mart asked.

  Lill gave him a withering look. “If there are any survivors, they won’t SOS. On a suicide mission, it’s win or die. And no prisoners will be taken.”

  “They’ve miscounted the number of MC Fasts in this sector,” Di’mir reported. “According to their codes, the Cybers believe they’ve wiped out the entire Fleet.”

  “That’s a small consolation.” Mart tried to hide the horror he was feeling. The “action” around the Centaur homeworlds blockade had been neonate play compared to this – this was the real thing. “Will the wounded Fasts just float around until they’re found, or what?”

  “MC regulations say that if you’re in a gondola, you drop into the enemy camp to harass until they find you. If you’re stuck, you bite on a toxi-tablet.”

  “Couldn’t we send some of the Fasts coming here back to locate survivors?”

  “Too late!” Di’mir said. “Dis-Fortress has put out orders for the Cybers to send up ships to sweep the area around Erebus. And then to await further orders.”

  The silence which followed that ominous statement was punctuated by the Fast’s mind reporting that those of the Fleet’s returning quartets which hadn’t gone on the suicide mission were now arriving back in their area.

  Only one group was still out: Wang’Un’s – Lill’s own ship and crew – and she was getting nervous. Finally Wang’Un reported in: her quartet had stayed behind long enough to pick up survivors. They had found plenty, including many who were badly wounded and in need of med. care beyond the Fleet’s capability.

  At that moment, Wicca Eighth chose to comm.

  Lill tried to explain to the Matriarch what had occurred when they had arrived to hook up with the Fleet: what they’d discovered, and then what Admiral Thol had done – and with what results. Wicca Eighth had dozens of questions about every single detail of the rather short, although quite busy, time since they had arrived in the Carina Fornax sector. She seemed determined to know absolutely everything.

  Finally, after listening to their exchange with growing irritation, Mart interrupted, “Ma’am! We’ve got our propaganda tool now. Let’s move on to the next stage of the plan which we worked out yesterday afternoon Sol Rad., before these Cybers find time to do more than merely secure this sector.”

  “What are you talking about? How are we supposed to fight them if they attack with biological weapons against which we can’t defend ourselves?”

  As Wicca spoke, Mart realized that MC Fasts must not possess the same shield systems which had protected this Hesperian-designed-and-built Fast. The Matriarchy’s arrogance had led It to overlook a technological advance that had suddenly become crucial.

  “Ma’am, the Cyber-virus is directed at the hormone estrogen. I have” – he turned to his son – “Di’mir? What’s the percentage of estrogen among all the hormones in my body?”

  “Negligible!” Di’mir replied.

  “Some estrogen?” Mart asked.

  “An amount, yes. But if we vaccinated males to suppress the already low level of e
strogen found normally in their bodies, and if we then vaccinated to increase testosterone, the new Cyber-virus should be neutralized.”

  “Do you understand what he’s saying, Ma’am?” Mart asked Her. “What I’m saying?”

  “You’re –” For the first time, Wicca Eighth didn’t seem in total control. “You’re suggesting ... Do you really expect Me to send males out there to fight the entire Cyber rebel movement?”

  “Ma’am, if I were Cray 12,000, following a victory like this, I would take advantage of the situation. I’d move as many of my fighting Fasts as possible through this sector, take over all of the Carina Fornax systems, and then head for the center of the Matriarchy. The losses the Cybers suffered on Erebus are small compared to both their number and their resources. Remember that almost every intelligent Cyber can be programmed to pilot and to fight logically tactical battles. Our time is limited – maybe thirty or forty hours Sidereal Time, at the most. We’ve got to make a stand before they reach Regulus Prime and the Center Worlds. And we can’t waste time looking for a cure for this particular virus. We’ve got to meet them quickly, and with whatever fighting forces we can muster.”

  “Lord Kell is right!” Lill chimed in. “Selected women officers, especially those with already reduced estrogen, could be injected with testosterone. I’d join them.”

  “A Fleet of males?” Wicca Eighth repeated, unable to believe what She was hearing. “You’re telling Me we have to send out males to defend the Matriarchy?”

  “And if I were Cray 12,000” – Mart ignored her last words – “not only would I strike now, but I’d also hit the MC right at its military heart.”

  “Groombridge XXXIV!” Wicca all but shrieked. “You want your male Fleet to defend the Matriarchy at Groombridge? If Groombridge falls, then ...”

  Then the Matriarchy would fall. She didn’t have to complete the sentence.

  “It’s still the best spot, because we can count on a great deal of firepower backup from the satellite’s installations if we have to fall back toward it. Cray 12,000 is bound to aim for Groombridge. It’s simply most efficient to knock it out before heading on to the galactic center.”

  “Lill?” Wicca Eighth asked.

  “Sounds right to me, Ma’am.”