Fallen Fragon

by Peter F. Hamilton

  "How long before we can get after them?" Simon asked.

  "I should have an answer for you in about a week," the captain said.

  * * *

  The Koribu's telescope immediately blanked out as the nuclear warheads exploded around the Clichane. Filter programs compensated as the fury slowly diminished. They saw the starship wreathed in coiling gas plumes. They were alive with scintillations from the radiation blitz, entombing the giant ship in a nebula of shooting stars. Venting had imparted a slow tumble. Lawrence didn't like to think how much liquid would have to be evacuated to move something so massive. Then they saw a flare of rocket motors around the cargo section as the AS attempted to stabilize their attitude.

  Lawrence realized he'd been holding his breath for a long time. "They're alive, then," he said.

  "Unless the Norvelle fires at them again," Denise said. "With the state they're in, I doubt they'll be able to defend themselves."

  "Can you defend yourself against that kind of attack?" Lawrence asked One.

  "No," One replied. "There is no reason for us to be armed. We have nothing other than knowledge. And that we give..."

  "Yeah, you live to share," Lawrence said. "What happens when other species do threaten you?"

  "We incorporate the knowledge of the threat"

  "That's it?" Denise asked. "That's all you do, remember being destroyed?"

  "We exist to acquire and distribute knowledge. We hatch in every sector of the galaxy and examine what surrounds us. Once that has been accomplished and the sun cools again, our existence there ends. Another sun will eventually replace it. The overall processing of knowledge will continue no matter how many individuals of our species are exterminated. Very few other species have sufficient munitions to destroy every one of us. By now our eggs have probably reached other galaxies."

  "Are you saying you don't care if you're destroyed?"

  "Care is an emotion I do not possess. You know it because it is bound with your sense of individuality. We are not a hive mind, but we are aware of ourselves as a civilization that could well prove to be eternal. All events we encounter contribute to what we are and what we will become. All individuality ends eventually. We birthed ourselves in acknowledgment of that."

  "But the person in command of the second starship could threaten to destroy you if he realizes how vulnerable you are."

  "If threatened I will provide the knowledge required. The threat will end."

  "You said you'd withhold it," Lawrence said.

  "In the assumption that would provide a balance for your species. You claimed the third starship would deliver our knowledge to your entire race. That is no longer possible."

  "We're going to have to go to Earth," Denise said. "Carry the knowledge ourselves and get there ahead of the Norvelle. Damn Roderick to hell. I didn't want this."

  Lawrence held up a finger. "One, will you help repair the starship that has just been damaged?"

  "Yes. A patternform can be provided that will modify itself to perform the operation."

  "So if we disable the Norvelle, the balance will be restored. They can both be repaired simultaneously. There would be no monopoly when they return to Earth."

  "Will you make us a weapon that can disable the Norvelle?" Denise asked quickly.

  "No," One said. "You may have knowledge that can be used to build a weapon."

  "How long would it take to build?"

  "First you would have to learn how to apply patternform systems. Then you must integrate the knowledge for the weapon to be extruded."

  "Yes. How long?'

  "You have some familiarity with patternform systems. This would be to your advantage. I estimate you would require as little as three weeks."

  Frustration made Denise want to hit something. Anything. The Koribu and the Norvelle were equally matched. If they launched a strike, the Norvelle would retaliate. They needed something else, a weapon that would give them an advantage.

  "But you already have a weapon we can use," Lawrence said quietly.

  The first thing the Norvelle's sensors confirmed was the alien structure's complete lack of rotation in any direction. Somehow it held its attitude stable against the gusts of thick solar wind that blew constantly from the turbulent photosphere. Its shape gradually resolved during their approach: circular, divided into twenty scalloplike sections that curved down toward the surface of the star. Their edges were rounded and very smooth, tapering down to a few tens of meters thick. Its bulk was concentrated in the middle, with a small aperture at the very center.

  Simon thought it might be a docking port of some kind, although he wasn't convinced. Even for an alien design it was a very strange habitat.

  The apex of each scallop sprouted three slender ridges that shone a livid scarlet, radiating heat away out toward the stars, leaving the rest of the upper surface considerably cooler. The AS postulated that this was how the structure generated its power, exploiting the thermal difference. To do so, the ridges could well be a type of thermal superconductor. An interesting technology, Simon thought, but hardly on a level with nanonic systems.

  The Koribu's fusion burn ended, rendezvousing it with the alien structure. It hung inside the umbra, three kilometers from the surface. Simon waited, half expecting to see an engineering shuttle fly over into the aperture.

  "What are you doing?" he muttered to himself.

  Norvelle's long-range radar continued to scan around. The AS detected another eleven similarly sized alien objects within 150,000 kilometers. If they were some alien version of habitats, it gave him a seriously large population base to deal with. There must be millions of similar structures in orbit around the red giant.

  "Have we intercepted any interstructure communications yet?" he asked the starship's AS.

  "Not in the electromagnetic spectrum. They could be using lasers, or masers. In order to intercept them we would have to insert ourselves into the beam."

  "Never mind." He continued to study the structure. When they were two thousand kilometers away, Norvelle extended its magnetometer booms. The alien structure was the core of a vast magnetic field. Around the center it was as dense as a tokamak containment field. Vast, invisible flux wings extended for hundreds of kilometers below the star-facing surface. Simon altered the calibration of the main radar and refocused the telescope. The AS combined the data from each, presenting it as a false-color thematic image.

  Solar wind was being scooped up by the magnetic field and pulled inward. He could see tenuous eddies of the stuff forming as it streamed up toward the hidden center of the structure's star-facing surface.

  He knew it couldn't be a habitat. A machine of some kind, then. One that consumed solar wind particles. What sort of machine did that? He knew the aliens had nanonic systems. They must be converting the solar wind into artifacts of some kind. The production capacity represented by the millions of structures was awesome. Although that would be severely limited by the minuscule quantity of mass that the magnetic field scooped up. If you had that kind of ability, why use it like this?

  That was when he recognized what the structures were.

  "Open a link to the Koribu," Simon ordered the AS. "Lawrence Newton, can you hear me?"

  "Loud and clear. Is this Simon Roderick?"

  "It is."

  "Your clone told us about you."

  "I don't suppose he was very flattering."

  "He made some strong claims. Your attack on the Clichane would seem to validate them."

  "If you know about me, you know why I had to do that."

  "I know your rationale for the attack. That doesn't mean I agree with it."

  "I've seen your file, Newton. You gave up everything, a whole world, for the chance to fly explorer starships. You know there is more to the human condition than what we are today. And now we can realize that goal for everyone."

  "Whether they want it or not."

  "It is the underclass that prevented you from making those flights you dreamed of. T
hey restricted you more than they ever did me."

  "I'm not arguing with you. I'm telling you, I will not allow you to impose change on people. You and your clone may have the information together."

  "Is it yours to give?"

  "Yes."

  "I think not. This isn't a habitat, is it, not some artifact? This is the alien itself. How utterly magnificent. A creature of pure space."

  "Yes, this is the alien."

  "One of them crashed on Arnoon, didn't they? That's what made the crater next to the village."

  "Your research is very competent."

  "It made no sense at first. Why an alien with nanonic technology would enlist human allies and steal a starship. It was damaged, it didn't have all of its abilities."

  "And now we've brought it back to its own kind."

  "What were you going to do with the technology, Newton?"

  "Nothing. I'm going home."

  "I don't believe that, either. You're from a Board family. You would use it to your advantage, just like me."

  "Wrong. I suggest you go back to the Clichane and help its crew. Once you've done that the technology will be made available."

  "Have you really convinced the aliens to cooperate with you already? Or are you hiding something from me? Why don't you go back and help the Clichane?"

  "This ship is in no condition to help anybody. We barely made it here."

  "Then how were you planning to get home? Can the alien nanonics repair your ship? I suppose they can."

  "They can."

  "How interesting. In that case, I think I will remain with you and observe them in action." It was an almost perfect solution, he realized. If he parked the Norvelle in the alien's umbra his proximity to the Koribu would provide him with the greatest possible opportunity to obtain a physical sample of the nanonic technology. He began to wonder just how much of an ally the alien was to Newton. How would it react to any attempted interdiction of nanonic systems? Certainly there had been no repercussions from his attack on the Clichane. Before he took such an overt course of action he must at least try to establish communications with the alien. It could be that Newton was actually bluffing.

  The Norvelle's fusion drive matched velocity with the vast alien, then slowly eased the starship into the umbra. It cut off, and the AS began firing the chemical rockets to refine their attitude. At that moment they were five kilometers from the surface of the alien, and twelve kilometers from the Koribu. Neither Newton nor the alien had responded to Simon's repetitive calls.

  The Norvelle's magnetometer booms were still observing the titanic flux lines warping around the alien. Their pattern began to change, contracting like petals at sunset. But fast.

  "What—" Simon managed to ask.

  Lawrence had gone over the lifecycle of the dragons many times during the hundred-day voyage. Naturally, the creatures fascinated him. Then actually seeing them through the starship's sensors thrilled him even more. He loved their elegance. He even admired their philosophy, despite how frustrating it was to his situation.

  Each dragon must have taken centuries to grow to its full size. Like Simon Roderick, he watched the magnetic field gather up wisps of solar wind, ingesting them for the active patternform system to alchemize—a slow, laborious process given the quantity involved. Some of the molecules were used to replenish and sustain the dragon's own body, but once it had reached its full size, most were given to the production of eggs. Each one took a long time to convene. Not only did its physical structure have to be put together a particle at a time, but those particles had to be loaded with data from the ever-shifting tides of knowledge possessed by the dragon star civilizations.

  Once an egg was complete it would be sent off into interstellar space, to fall aimlessly through the galaxy. But the dragons were in orbit around Aldebaran, tied to the star by gravity. The eggs couldn't just be detached from the adult; they would simply drift around the same orbit. So the center of every dragon was a magnetic cannon, capable of accelerating an egg up to solar escape velocity.

  The Norvelle was parked five kilometers from the muzzle when One fired. The egg, a solid sphere of matter seventytwo meters in diameter, struck the starship's complex and delicate compression drive section at over forty kilometers per second.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Every bed in the CLICHANE'S sickbay was occupied, mostly with victims of radiation burns sustained during the attack. Surrounding cabins had been converted to hold the overspill. The doctors walked around, checking vital signs, making sure their patients were comfortable. They didn't have a lot else to do. Prime, improved with genuine dragon routines, was orchestrating the patternform systems that had twined themselves through the flesh of each patient. This was a much more active application than the Arnoon dragon had ever achieved. The patternform had grown what resembled a network of veins over each man's skin; tubules infiltrated the body, multiplying around the organs and muscles inside. Particles roamed through the damaged tissue, repairing cells and resequencing DNA smashed apart by the X-ray barrage. The computing power required to control the operation in each person was phenomenal; patternform had grown the processing nodules as well. They hung under each bed like leaf-green wasp nests, their root tendrils connecting them to the parallel vein network.

  Lawrence looked through a couple of the doors as he and Denise walked through the section. The men were all sleeping.

  "They look peaceful," he said.

  "So did you," she told him.

  The converted cabins were split with the Norvelle crew members who had received more physical injuries when the dragon's egg struck. Their starship's axis had snapped from the egg impact, with two of the life support wheels being flung off into space as the broken sections tumbled away from One. Over a hundred crew had ejected in lifeboats. Those remaining in the two intact wheels had waited for the Koribu to rendezvous, then transferred over for the short journey to the Clichane.

  Now the two remaining starships were parked in One's umbra as pattemform strands began to creep across them.

  Simon Roderick was waiting for Lawrence and Denise outside a cabin with a closed hatch. The locks disengaged, and he pushed it open. They followed him in.

  There was a single bed inside; the SK2 lay on it, also encased in pattemform systems. His legs and hand were being grown back. A Skin sustainer cabinet that had been brought into the cabin was smothered in a lacework of pattemform veins; they were harvesting the organic components and blood reserves for raw material to generate new tissue. Flaccid translucent sacs the shape of legs already extended from his stumps, with glutinous fluids circulating inside.

  Denise's expression tightened as she looked down at the unconscious man. "What do you intend to do with him?"

  "For the immediate future, he will be excluded from the Board, and most of his executive privileges will be revoked. House arrest, essentially. After that, who knows? I suspect it depends on what form Earth's society chooses to follow."

  "Good enough," Lawrence said. He ignored the dirty look Denise threw him. "None of us exactly came out of this as saints."

  "No," Simon agreed. "But then I never claimed to be."

  "How will your clone siblings react to all this?"

  "The same as we did. Not that it will really matter." He gave both of them a pointed look. "The captains will make sure the dragon knowledge is given to everybody when we return. They're already making plans to transfer the memories directly into Earth's datapool before Z-B even notices there's something different about their old starship. It'll be protected by this upgraded Prime, which should ensure equal access."

  "You sound as though you disapprove."

  "I almost do." Simon gestured at his clone sibling. "We're a chaotic race. His method would have given us a smooth transition."

  "Where's the fun in that?" Lawrence said. "Tear down the uniculture, open your eyes, give people their identity back."

  "Ah." Simon's eyebrows rose in modest censure. "I might have guessed."<
br />
  "How long before the Clichane is flightworthy?" Denise asked.

  "Another fortnight," Simon said. "Quite remarkable, really. Fortunately there's plenty of spare mass to restructure missing components. After all, we hardly need the weapons, or all that asset cargo now. Are you sure you don't want to come back with us? It will be an interesting time to live in."

  "No," Denise said curtly.