“He is tired and weary,” Cone said. “Give him several weeks rest and then he will—”
“You think to honor him by this…loyalty?” Juba-Ryder asked. “No. You are disobeying his last command. James Hawthorne has stepped down from power and—”
“Hawthorne will lead the Human Fleet to the Neptune System,” Cone said.
“You are incorrect on several counts,” Juba-Ryder said. “Firstly, it is Social Unity’s Fleet, not the Human Fleet. Secondly, he cannot lead. If the Highborn learn he is alive, they will annul our alliance or demand his death. Therefore, he must remain incognito. Frankly, in the interest of cementing our alliance, James Hawthorne should surrender himself to the Highborn.”
“You are a political animal,” Cone said. “To cement your power, you would willingly give up a human to the genetic freaks. And not just any human, but the military genius who had kept us free from the Highborn. ”
“Those ‘freaks’ you refer to will help us defeat the cyborgs and thus save humanity,” Juba-Ryder said. “This is a harsh world, Security Specialist. Or didn’t the planet-wrecker teach you anything?”
Through the robot’s screen, Cone stared at the director. Then the floating machine rotated slightly so the screen aimed at Marten. “Why were you attempting to gain admittance to the Supreme Commander’s Mansion?”
“I want to free Osadar,” Marten said.
“He means the cyborg,” Juba-Ryder said.
“I can arrange that,” Cone told Marten.
“Didn’t you hear me earlier?” Juba-Ryder asked loudly. “This traitor will speak with no one, certainly not with a cyborg. He is coming with me.”
“In case you’ve forgotten,” Marten said. “I have a gun pointed at you.”
Juba-Ryder spread her hands in the robot’s direction. “His words betray him. He is a traitor, eager to shed our blood.”
“You plan to shed his blood,” Cone said.
“I am the new legal representative for Social Unity,” Juba-Ryder said. “In me resides the authority of billions of socially responsible people.” She faced Marten. “By what authority do you dare to threaten my life?”
“The right of self-preservation,” Marten said.
“In the face of billions of people?”
A grin tightened Marten’s lips. “Your time is running out. If you believe in any deities, I suggest you make your peace with them now.”
“If you kill me,” Juba-Ryder said, “my guards will kill you and your wife.”
“The minute I drop my gun, I’m dead anyway,” Marten said.
Juba-Ryder grew thoughtful. “I will bargain with you. Spare my life and she can walk away.”
Marten stared into the director’s eyes. He couldn’t trust her. He knew that, and yet…
“One moment,” Cone said. “I have a solution to our dilemma.”
“Marten Kluge must surrender to me,” Juba-Ryder said.
“We are not in Egyptian Sector,” Cone said. “By what authority do you make your arrest in New Baghdad?”
“Were you not listening?” Juba-Ryder asked. “The directors took a vote. I am the new Chief Director for Social Unity, for all Inner Planets.”
“Ah,” Cone said, nodding onscreen. “I see. I hadn’t fully understood the situation. A vote by the directors, you say? That was quick work, smoothly done.” The robot floated a fraction closer to Marten. “Force-Leader, you will come with me into protected custody.”
“Security Specialist,” Juba-Ryder said. “I must—”
“Please, Chief Director,” Cone said, smiling onscreen. “If you would allow me to convince Marten Kluge, I will save Social Unity your needed and legal supervision.” With startling speed, ports opened on the fighting robot. Two stubby barrels poked out, aimed at Marten.
“Your bodyguards can lower their weapons,” Cone said. “If Marten Kluge shoots you, I will destroy him and his wife.”
Juba-Ryder’s eyes flashed with anger, but she nodded curtly. “Holster your weapons,” she told the guards.
The three large men opened.
“Force-Leader Kluge,” Cone said.
There was no way to hurt Cone, so Marten shoved his gun into its holster. He backed away from Juba-Ryder, grabbing one of Nadia’s hands.
The robot rotated slightly. A nanosecond later, the two stubby barrels blazed with gunfire. Spent shells poured out of the robot, raining onto and rattling against the cement. In a stream of gunfire, rounds hissed past Marten and Nadia. The bullets shredded armor, uniforms and flesh, and caused a bloody mist to spray. In seconds, it was over. Juba-Ryder and her three bionic bodyguards were smoking piles of meat. The smell of gore and disintegrated bone was strong.
“I don’t have much time,” Cone said onscreen to an openmouthed Marten. “I have to consolidate my position fast. I want to keep the Human Alliance alive. I know you don’t have many troops here at present, but you are the best link we have with the Jovians. No, make that the only link.”
Marten turned a stunned Nadia away from the grisly pile of dead. “You play a hard game,” he told Cone.
“With the cyborgs raining asteroids on us, we don’t have time for fools,” Cone said. “The present directors…after Hawthorne’s changes, they’re too tame. I have changed the directives of the cybertank guarding the Supreme Commander’s Mansion. You’re free to take Osadar with you. After that, it might be better if you went to a military base.”
“I’d like to go to Athens where my space marines are,” Marten said.
“Your face has been in the news lately. I advise you to keep a low profile.”
“I understand. Do you have any vehicles I could use?”
“You used to live on Earth and should know your way around. I’ll give you a pass.” Cone turned to somewhere off screen. She re-appeared soon. “I’ve given you, your wife and Osadar Priority Clearance. It will allow you to go just about anywhere. Do you have any questions, Force-Leader Kluge?”
“No,” Marten said. “Good luck to you and thanks. I won’t forget this.”
“I’m counting on that.”
“Eh?” he asked.
“I’ve read your file. You get things done. Good luck to you. You’re going to need it.”
Marten wanted to get out of here before Cone changed her mind. He took Nadia’s hand, and they ran toward the former Supreme Commander’s Mansion. They needed to collect Osadar as quickly as possible, get the space marines and Omi, and leave Earth as fast as they could.
-7-
Far from Earth in the Jupiter System, on a defensive satellite orbiting Callisto, a purple-robed philosopher bowed before Chief Strategist Tan.
On the walls of the chamber were computer-screens cycling through various videos. At the moment, one showed the rocky moon of Callisto, centering on the ruins of a shattered dome. Another showed a gigantic helium-3 tanker in orbit around Jupiter, waiting for atmospheric haulers to bring their precious cargos. On a third screen was a distant blue-green object amid a bright star-field.
The philosopher was an older man with a bald dome of a head and a heavy beard like Socrates. Despite his flabby arms, he moved with serenity. He completed the bow and straightened, with a computer-scroll held against his chest.
The Chief Strategist regarded him. She was a tiny woman with bio-sculpted features. She was beautiful in an elfin way, with dark hair stylishly draped around her head. She wore a red robe that brushed her red slippers, and she had small red rings around her fingers. She knelt on a cushion before a low table. Soft “philosophic” chimes played in the background.
“The findings are serious enough to warrant careful thought,” the man said. His name was Euthyphro, but most people referred to him by his title: the Advocate. He was Tan’s primary link with the scientists and technicians searching the void for evidence of the cyborgs.
Venus, Jupiter and Uranus were currently in orbit on the same side of the Sun. Probes had been launched some time ago, journeying into space so they could look a
round the Sun and study Neptune. Past communication traffic with the Uranus System showed some anomalies and there was debate whether a cyborg stealth-attack had taken place there. Currently, communications seemed normal with Uranus, but a stubborn core of technicians believed otherwise and searched for proof.
Tan sipped from a chalice as a particular melody chimed. After the notes faded, she said, “Show me these findings.”
Euthyphro the Advocate turned to the screen with the distant blue-green object amid the star-field. He opened his computer-scroll and tapped upon it.
“I’m magnifying the image,” Euthyphro said. “Due to the optical effects, the surrounding stars may appear to become distorted.”
True to his word, the bright objects blurred as the blue-green object took on a distinct form. It was disc-shaped and possessed a Great Dark Spot, much like Jupiter’s Great Red Spot. A few white high-altitude clouds appeared at the edges of the spot. The distant ice giant gave off three times the heat it received from the Sun.
“Neptune,” whispered Tan.
Uranus and Neptune were sometimes referred to as “ice giants” as compared to the more regular term “gas giants” for Jupiter and Saturn. The reason was the high percentage of icy water, methane and ammonia that composed the majority of the two distant planets.
Euthyphro nodded as he continued to tap his scroll. The blue-green ice giant kept expanding until it filled the screen.
“This is extreme magnification,” Euthyphro said. “Military Intelligence attempts to count the anomalies, supposing that will give them the number of cyborgs ships. I’m afraid, however, that it isn’t going to be that simple.”
“The cyborgs are fond of stealth fleets,” Tan said. “Logic indicates they will use decoy forces, too.”
“Precisely,” Euthyphro said. “Therefore, the probability of this, hmmm, situation being an accurate assessment—”
“Show me your indicators,” Tan said. She had little time for discussions and debates. She was too busy juggling the many political factions of the Jupiter System. There were the Helium-3 Barons, the former philosophers of Callisto, the industrialists of Europa and the patriots of Ganymede, to name a few. It was difficult to maintain power, because by pleasing one group she usually angered several others with competing desires. There were constant political attempts on her position. So far, she had outlived the attempts and remained in control. She credited the success to her hard-won wisdom and because she was better than anyone else was at playing one faction against another.
Euthyphro sighed as he shook the scroll. “This is slim data from which to proceed.”
“My time is limited,” Tan said. “So no more objections, if you please. Show me the indicators.”
Euthyphro bowed again. “You have spoken.” He tapped his computer-scroll. On the screen, a flash appeared beside the ice giant.
“What color was that?” Tan asked.
Euthyphro glanced back at Tan, his eyes wide with surprise. They were the most interesting thing about him, big blue eyes full of intelligence. A hint of fear showed in them as well. He recovered quickly as once more he tapped the scroll.
The flash reappeared, but this time much slower than before. It cycled through a number of colors: red, green, purple, orange, blue and bright white at the end.
“Why the variations?” asked Tan.
“Precisely,” he said.
“That is not an answer,” Tan said, for the first time becoming angry.
“Excuse me, Chief Strategist, I simply marvel at your swiftly intuitive grasp of the—”
“I am not here to dialog with you, Advocate. I have decisions to make and meetings to attend. You said this was critical. Now explain this to me succinctly and quickly.”
“Chief Strategist, my techs believe we are witnessing a Fuhl Event.”
“I am not familiar with the term,” Tan said.
“I’m relieved. It shows you’re not omniscient after all, which I had almost come to believe a moment ago.”
“You are testing my patience with no perceivable reward in sight. Instead of achieving rewards, you are risking demotion.”
“Chief Strategist, the evidence frightens me. It is the reason for my strange behavior.”
“Explain your fear.”
“A Fuhl Event contains the needed parameters or factors toward creating a black hole,” Euthyphro said. “But not a haphazard black hole, rather, one needed to fold space.”
“A worm hole?” asked Tan, with mockery in her voice.
“Our physics has long disproved the possibility of worm holes, warp drives and other such nonsense,” Euthyphro said. “However, at the Callisto Academy—before its destruction—Higher Status Mathematics had conceived of a Fuhl Event.”
“What you’re really saying is that the cyborgs are experimenting with FTL,” Tan said, “a Faster than Light drive.”
“I would quibble with your statement on several counts. Firstly, we do not know who experiments with the Fuhl Event.”
“Since this occurs at Neptune,” Tan said, “the cyborgs are the logical persons.”
“True, but that doesn’t conclusively prove it is them.”
Tan waved her hand. “Give me your next ‘quibble,’ if you please.”
“Are we witnessing an experiment?” Euthyphro asked. “Why couldn’t it be an alien race visiting Neptune and now departing?”
Tan glanced at the ceiling. Trust a philosopher to add layers of complication to a thing. “Let us stick to high-end probabilities, shall we?”
Euthyphro bowed his head. “The highest probability indicates that this…flash was of cyborg origin or design. However, we should not discount the idea that holdout capitalists used an experimental device in order to flee from the cyborgs.”
“Do we have records of such experiments?”
“I have not discovered any, no.”
“Hmm,” said Tan. “Such evidence, if it existed, could have been destroyed on Callisto during the Cyborg Assault.”
“That is conceivable, yes.”
Tan studied the screen. “If the cyborgs have developed an FTL drive…”
“Certain possibilities come into play,” Euthyphro said. “One: could this drive be used in our Solar System? Instead of taking months or years crossing the system, could a warship make the trip in days? If that could occur, it would give the cyborgs a decisive military advantage.”
“This Fuhl Event,” Tan said, “have the theorists formulated any limiting factors to it?”
“That is an astute question.”
Tan scowled. “You are not here to pass judgment on my questions. Simply answer them as you are able.”
“Of course, Chief Strategist.” Euthyphro pressed his lips together before he said, “Theory indicates that a heavy gravitational body such as a planet would disrupt a Fuhl Event from occurring. The question becomes, naturally, what was the flash? Maybe the cyborgs foolishly attempted a Fuhl Event too close to Neptune. Maybe a group of human scientists risked their lives using the FTL drive, hoping to escape conversion.”
“We know so little about the cyborgs, other than their ruthlessness,” Tan said. “We need more data on our enemy.”
“There are some who believe it was a mistake allowing Marten Kluge’s cyborg to leave for Inner Planets.”
“That decision is not open to discussion,” Tan said.
“Of course not,” Euthyphro said. “Because we lack precise data on the event near Neptune, we must infer from our scanty evidence. Therefore, probabilities come into play.”
“Please, spare me the prologue. Just get to the point.”
Euthyphro rolled up the computer-scroll as he faced Tan. He took a deep breath and began to speak as he exhaled. “To date, the cyborgs have shown great and crafty intelligence. Clearly, they are winning the Solar War. I doubt the flash occurred because the cyborgs foolishly attempted to create a Fuhl Event too close to the ice giant. That would lend weight therefore to the notion that free-will hu
mans still exist in the Neptune System. However, logic dictates that a cyborg victory occurred there and that it was of a total nature.”
“Where does that leave us then?” asked Tan.
“I believe an accident occurred. How, why or what caused this accident, I have no idea. I do think what we witnessed was the attempted creation of a Fuhl Event. The cyborgs appear to have or seem about to have an FTL drive. That should concern us deeply.”
“Why couldn’t Neptune be part of the Fuhl Event?” Tan asked. “If I understand the concept, four equidistant points of high gravitational force are needed.”
Euthyphro’s bushy eyebrows lofted. “What an interesting idea. I hadn’t thought of the possibility. Does the mathematics even support such a notion? I will have my techs run the computations.”
“It would seem we have even less time than we thought to defeat the cyborgs.”
“To give you some idea of the severity of the situation,” Euthyphro said, “I recalculated the possibility of human victory given the cyborgs have a working Fuhl Event. In that case, our odds for survival drop to seven percent.”
“Spare me your pessimism,” Tan said.
“I assure you this has nothing to do with pessimism but is an objective assessment of reality. Already, the cyborgs are militarily superior to any combination of our allied forces. That means—”
“That means you should hold your tongue for the moment,” Tan said. “I must decide what to do with this new data.”
“My seven percent probability occurs only if the Fuhl Event is an actuality.”
“I’m well aware of that. The percentage isn’t the new data I was referring to, but the possibility that a Fuhl Mechanism exists.”
“Ah,” Euthyphro said. He cleared his throat. “My recommendation is that we warn the others as quickly as possible so they will accelerate their attack against Neptune.”
Tan shook her head. “There are many factors in play. We desire victory, certainly. But we do not desire victory at the expense of Highborn dominance. We cannot play into their hands.”
“The Highborn will not escape this war unscathed. Given their paltry numbers, I would estimate—”
Doom Star: Book 06 - Star Fortress Page 7
