Star Force 10: Outcast

by B. V. Larson

  “Why not protect and educate them yourself, so they all grow up to contribute?”

  “Ah, you are a revolutionary!” he said with amusement. “You should understand that in my society these infants would have already been released into the wilderness. Not one in a hundred would survive to adulthood. For years I have longed to conduct an experiment doing as you suggest. I hope that by letting them grow bigger and giving them some skills, at least one in ten will survive. Perhaps even one in five! If I tried this among others of my kind, I would become a pariah—possibly losing my status entirely.”

  That put a different perspective on things. To Hoon, leaving the children here, protected by the dome and educated by automated systems, was already a radical improvement on the norm. I had no doubt his “experiment,” as he put it, was just that: a test of a new way of doing things and not a concession to fatherly feeling. Ever the scientist, the main emotion Hoon felt was curiosity. In human terms, he was practicing a form of eugenics: experimentation on children and their development.

  Part of me was horrified, but I found the larger part of myself in agreement with Hoon. What could possibly be wrong with giving each and every one of these weird little kids staring at me a better chance at life? And who was I to judge another sentient race’s procreative customs?

  “Hoon, there are depths to you I never imagined. Congratulations on the birth of your many children. You have my blessing to plant a colony here.”

  Actually, I rather liked the idea of leaving a part of our alliance here on this moon even with the danger from the Lithos. In a few generations, there should be so many lobsters running around this planetoid that some would survive no matter what the Lithos did. The ruthless part of me also thought that anything that made long-term trouble for the rocky bastards was all right by me.

  “Captain Riggs, your single-minded dedication to our mission of getting home almost makes up for your deficient intellect and education—no, do not thank me for this compliment: it is well deserved. I do appreciate your tacit approval of my plan and hope you can come visit my laboratory again next month. Goodbye.”

  With that, he turned his tail to me and scuttled nimbly over to another enclosure. I had been dismissed.

  To Hoon, I was nothing more than the flunky in charge of the ship that carried him. I could have gotten irritated, but I chose to laugh instead. He was what he was and wasn’t likely to change. The most I could hope for was to get some use out of him, and to that end, keeping him more or less happy seemed like a good investment.

  My next order of business was to take a look at a stealthy sensor package I had ordered prepared. Soon it was ready to go up through the ice. Using a mechanical drill to limit any heat signature, it tunneled its way slowly upward through two hundred feet of frozen water, trailing a cable of smart metal connecting it to Valiant’s brainbox.

  If I hadn’t known better, I’d have thought the ship was getting bored, although it may have been merely an excess of processing capacity that made it seem excited at the prospect of seeing the outside world. After all, it had plenty to look at on the sea bed and in the water. Still, it was programmed for space, not oceans, and even a computer might be said to have a comfort zone.

  Once the sensor package poked its pickups and cameras above the endless ice, some hours passed before we learned anything. Nothing seemed close in the sky. No Lithos lurked in orbit as far as we could see. Without active sensors, though, we couldn’t be sure. The Lithos had little in the way of heat or radiation signatures that we could detect with this minimal package. Their bigger ships would give off some gamma, but mostly I knew we would have to spot them optically as they crossed in front of bright stars or perhaps flew between us and the glowing gas giant below.

  Eventually we were able to see several Litho cruisers in far planetary orbit. Once we’d worked out their patterns, it became clear that enough of them were patrolling to keep our ice moon under close surveillance at all times.

  This fact relieved my mind quite a lot. Sure, it was possible they were preparing some kind of massive response, maybe a fleet hiding in a counter-orbit on the opposite side of Matterhorn 6. Had it been me setting the trap, I’d have made it look like no one was watching. I doubted they were trying to trap us. However, I warned myself against thinking of them as humans. They weren’t, and I had to remember that.

  Half a day later we heard what I had been waiting and hoping for: a low-power encrypted laser transmission from Marvin. While the Lithos might detect this, the chance seemed minimal, even though the laser spot was probably hundreds of miles wide. Of course, Marvin had no idea where we were on the moon, so he had to spread the beam out. He was risking detection, but knowing the crazy robot I figured he’d built that into his calculations. Maybe he was using a small laser relay drone, or a mirror, to hide his real location.

  Once the duty noncom called me to Valiant’s bridge, I read:

  Greetings, Captain Riggs. I’ve cracked Litho codes and can interpret their language now, though intercepting transmissions has proven difficult. They use point-to-point packets of moderated gamma rays, not broadcasts. I also believe they primarily “see” in the gamma and X-ray bands. I will forego more detailed data to minimize detection risk. Also, I have observed an important development: the Lithos are massing a fleet near the Matterhorn 7 ring-world. From my limited signals intelligence, I believe their purpose involves the ring, and not Valiant. Beyond that, I do not know.

  -Aboard Greyhound, Captain Marvin out.

  While fascinating, there was a lot Marvin had left unsaid, but at least it appeared he’d managed to report the most critical fact about the Litho fleet. But I wished he’d given me a basic idea of how many ships they had. I also noticed he hadn’t asked me to acknowledge the signal or to send him further instructions.

  The time stamp on the message said it had been recorded less than a day earlier. Clearly, the time had come to make our move. I put myself on the base-wide PA and made an announcement.

  “This is Captain Riggs. We’ve just received word that the Lithos are massing a fleet near this system’s outer ring at Matterhorn 7. We’re now on watch-and-watch. Mothball the base and prepare the squadron for departure. I want us ready in twelve hours, people, so get your asses in gear. Riggs out.”

  -27-

  “What is it, Hoon?” I asked. “I’m very busy right now.”

  I hurried down a passageway. The lobster kept up with me easily, churning and scratching the deck with his many legs.

  “I came to protest our departure,” Hoon said. “There’s far more we need to learn about the life forms on this moon.”

  “Sorry, Professor. We’ve got to go. If we stay, we may never get another chance to leave the system.”

  “But why not simply remain here and build a civilization? In a generation, we will be able to rise up with a thousand ships and destroy these dirt-bound marauders.”

  “We humans can’t have five thousand children at one time. Besides, this world isn’t our kind of place. It’s your kind of habitat. Stay and build a colony yourself, and good luck.” I turned to walk away.

  “I will consider your offer,” Hoon said.

  With a backward wave of my hand I departed, dismissing him as he had earlier dismissed me. In the end, he didn’t exit the ship. When Valiant lifted off, he was still aboard. Maybe he didn’t want to be marooned here with hundreds of infant Hoons any more than I did.

  We left one dome in place with an expanded brainbox and educational system that Hoon programmed. It would form the core of the new Crustacean base, and his children would be raised with all the knowledge and traditions the professor could cram into it.

  I’d given my crew a deadline of twelve hours, but I was secretly happy to be ready in twenty. I ordered everyone to battle stations the moment we fired up the engines. I knew we might have to fight as soon as we rose up out of the cold ocean.

  The domes opened behind us to let the seawater in, and the tiny flotilla of
ships we’d built proceeded like submarines in our wake. As a group, we traveled toward the open waters of the equator. Above us the ice slowly thinned, and I directed everyone to minimize their use of sonar. Now wasn’t the time to alert the enemy that lurked overhead.

  A vast gathering of whales soon escorted us, arriving from all directions. They had been summoned first by our pings, and then more came after hearing the low-frequency songs of the creatures themselves. When we finally broke the surface, thousands watched us go. I wondered what they thought of us. Maybe, if their intelligence was high enough, they believed us to be godlike beings descended from the sky. Perhaps we’d accidentally started a primitive religion, and they would worship the colonizing Lobsters. I mentally waved goodbye and put them and the undersea world out of my mind.

  I turned my thoughts to the Lithos as I took my place on the bridge. Now that production had been suspended, I’d installed Adrienne as my ops officer and made her responsible for passing commands to the frigates. The combat drone directors now sat at the outer ring of stations on the expanded bridge. Hansen had stayed on as my helmsman and XO, his own decision. I’d offered him his own ship, but after thinking it over for a day, he had decided to stay put. I hadn’t asked specifically why he’d chosen that option, but I was glad to have him, despite his attitude.

  “Go active on all sensors,” I instructed the bridge crew. “Give me maximum squadron acceleration, directly away from the gas giant.”

  My tiny fleet rose in formation with Valiant at the center. The frigates spread out in a sphere around her and the combat drones dispersed farther out, pairing up and patrolling our flanks. This was a flexible, general-purpose formation.

  Soon the holotank built a picture of the area around us. Several Litho cruisers still hung in the skies. The nearest moved to intercept us. Our combined speeds would put us in beam range within minutes.

  “Parabolic formation, focus on the cruiser,” I ordered.

  “Parabolic formation,” Adrienne echoed, and she sent orders to the frigates while the crew at the controller stations sent instructions to the combat drones.

  On the holotank, I saw the squadron formation change shape into a concave dish with its inward curve toward the Lithos. Against a single enemy or small formation, this gave us maximum firepower while ensuring none of us got in each other’s way.

  “Pass the word, use lasers only. I say again, lasers only. Begin firing at extreme range.”

  “But sir,” Hansen protested, “APs will be much more effective. We could get close enough to hit them with dozens of beams and probably take them down.”

  “Precisely, Mister Hansen: probably. I’d rather not clue them in to our real power. I’m following Sun Tzu’s advice: ‘When strong, appear weak. When weak, appear strong.’”

  Adrienne passed along my orders, and soon our heavy main lasers peppered the Litho cruiser with long-range shots. Blasts blew chunks of rock and dirt off the enemy ship as the beams impacted and converted themselves to heat, causing far less damage than the APs would. We might be killing Litho-nanites by the trillions, but crystal and dirt took a lot of energy to vaporize with lasers.

  Even so, each of the twelve frigates carried one such main laser, and Valiant had two. With fourteen beams slamming into the cruiser, we quickly tore it apart, and then it did what I expected. The big ship began to disintegrate and break up into fighters.

  By this time, our medium lasers were in optimal range as well as the heavy APs, but no APs fired. Only our medium lasers joined the chorus, and we quickly shredded the enemy small craft despite their attempts to evade.

  Moments later, the few surviving Litho fighters broke up into snowflakes, aiming at us.

  “All ships brake,” I said. “Combat drones engage. Frigates, pull up close around Valiant. Take your time and burn them all, using lasers only.”

  Hansen shook his head at my orders, but said nothing. I didn’t bother to explain it to him. I wanted to exterminate every Litho fighter launched by that cruiser, and to do that, I couldn’t have our two formations flashing through each other. If they did, we’d miss some of the snowflakes.

  I’d thought long and hard about this tactic—or perhaps it could have been called a policy. Adrienne had argued against it, but eventually I’d convinced her mind, if not her heart, that I was right. At first she’d thought it was too much like burning escaping crewmen who’d abandoned ship. But after I explained that I believed the snowflakes were their marines, not their crew, she understood. In actuality, I wasn’t sure if they differentiated between the two before breakup, or if these snowflakes were even distinct individuals until they had been calved. Certainly, the Lithos regarded them as completely expendable, unlike our feelings for our own marines.

  Therefore, I wanted to hunt them all down. My theory was that by doing so, we might deny the enemy whatever intel they might have gained by fighting us—by getting close to us. I hoped that the cruiser we killed couldn’t make a detailed report in the heat of battle. By exterminating all trace of them, I hoped we would leave the other Lithos believing all we had done was build up our numbers and not improved our weaponry and defenses.

  Another cruiser moved to intercept us, but I ordered my ships to turn away, and we easily outdistanced it. Once it became obvious they couldn’t catch up, their ship broke up into fighters as I’d expected it would. That was their fastest form, and the only one that could catch us other than their missiles.

  “Combat drones keep retreating, the rest move into a convex parabolic pattern,” I ordered, setting us up for rearward fire. “Continue with lasers only. Pick off the fighters at long range, and expect them to become missiles or snowflakes.” With overwhelming firepower and a lot of time to shoot, we easily knocked out all of this next cruiser’s military capability.

  Another reason to use lasers and take our time with longer ranged shots was to train our many green gunners who’d only fired in simulation mode. Even though the exercise looked the same as live fire, anyone who has ever been in actual combat will tell you the experience is far, far different with real targets. This way when the chips were down, the gunners would be less likely to miss or screw up. This was especially true with the cross-trained marines, who had a tendency to get a little…excitable with the bigger guns.

  Once I was certain the Lithos would be polished off or outrun, I reset the holotank so half of it showed me the situation around the greenish gas giant, Matterhorn 7, where Marvin had reported the ring moon and the other half showed me the Litho fleet. I still couldn’t make out much detail because we had nothing but passive sensor readings to go on. It would take about a half hour for our radar pulses to reach them and the same time to return. This would lessen rapidly as we accelerated hard toward our destination.

  On passive sensors I could see the modest gas giant and its moons, including what we were sure was the hollow ring moon. In orbit around that moon circled a cloud of ships. They were impossible to count at this distance, but there were certainly over a hundred; and all were cruisers or larger.

  “Damn,” I muttered. “I’d hoped the forty they sent after us was the bulk of their forces.”

  “That’s too many for us to go up against,” Hansen said, looking worriedly at me.

  I ignored him, trying to think. He shook his head and muttered as I continued to stare at the holotank.

  “We’ve got almost a day before we get there,” I said at last, “even at normal speed. Cut acceleration by half, and divert our course a bit so that we can more easily curve away if we have to. Keep us outside their engagement envelope. I need to see what the active sensors say, and I want to get Marvin’s report before we commit to anything.” I was sure my unstable mechanical officer had observed a lot in the last three months, and I needed that intel.

  Unfortunately Marvin wasn’t responding to our radio broadcasts or wide-beam com-laser pointed in his general direction. Hopefully he would get in contact when he felt safe.

  Within the hour our
radar returns from Matterhorn 7 outlined the situation, though I wasn’t certain it clarified the picture. Roughly two hundred forty Litho ships orbited the moon we believed contained a ring. About half matched the cruisers we had encountered before. The others ranged in power from destroyers to battleships, in Litho terms, not ours.

  “Looks like there’s an asteroid with them,” Hansen said as he came up beside me to view the holotank. With so far to go and no immediate threats, he was doing the right thing by shifting to XO mode and discussing tactics with his boss.

  “I doubt it’s an asteroid, at least, not anymore. These are Lithos, remember? Given what we know about how they operate, what useful things could they do with an asteroid?”

  Hansen put his nose to the holotank glass. “I guess they could seed it, infect it, or whatever they do to turn it into a ship.”

  I clapped the older man on the back, drawing an annoyed look. “That’s what I was thinking. It’s a ready-made dreadnought, five miles long and two wide.”

  “Too big for us to handle.”

  It was my turn to be annoyed. “Hansen, we’re not going to handle it. I didn’t build this fleet to wage pitched battles with dreadnoughts. I didn’t even build it to exterminate Lithos. I built it first and foremost as a show of strength, to try to get the Lithos to deal with us. If that doesn’t work, it’s fast enough to run, strong enough to fight, and flexible enough to get us home.”

  “Then I have to ask, sir, why we’re heading for that fleet!”

  “We’re not heading for the Lithos' fleet, Mr. Hansen. We’re heading for the ring, and their fleet happens to be in the way.”

  “Same difference, isn’t it?”

  Exasperated, my voice became harsh, but I spoke quietly enough that no one other than Hansen and Adrienne could hear.

  “Hansen, you’ve been a pilot too long,” I said. “You need to get your head out of your ass and look at the big picture. Stop looking at the obstacles and start looking at the goals. Tell me, when you’re doing a tricky piece of manual flying, where do your eyes go? To the thing you might hit?”