AMP Armageddon

by Stephen Arseneault

  I nodded. “Well, let’s go pay them a visit. Word of our victory probably hasn’t spread this far yet. I bet they could use the good news.”

  We pulled up short of orbit before Frig broadcast his first message. “Gambit colony. This is Bartel Helbris. I am here to bring news of the end of the great wars of this galaxy!”

  Several minutes passed before a response was heard. “Bartel. This is Admiral Honik Sumrue. We talked some years ago, following the destruction of the Galis. Welcome home, Bartel!”

  I placed my hand on Frig’s shoulder. “How about that! Sumrue is now an admiral, and he remembers you!”

  Frig had a solemn look on his face. “Hello, Admiral, we respectfully request permission to land.”

  The word came back. “Permission granted!”

  Frig was welcomed back by his people. I couldn’t remember him ever having a happier look on his face. He talked of the great war that had just ended, about our defeat of the Milgari, and then of the Colossuns and Durians. After Frig’s injection and cure of so many of the Milgari, the Gambit colony had largely been at peace. The time had been used to modernize their ships and to find several partners in trade. For the first time since their home world had been overrun, the Gambit were not on the run.

  Frig spoke. “The Milgari were pawns in this war just as I was. How could I fault them for something that was beyond their control? I realize it may be unfathomable at this moment, but I believe they would be good trading partners should they choose to stay in this sector. They have a new world to call home, just as you have here.”

  The Admiral replied, “Just as we have here, Bartel. Perhaps it is time you rejoined your people. Help us to build the Gambit society and culture to what it once was. Perhaps, we can all one day return to Gambrel. With the robotic technology you were speaking of, perhaps even Gambrel can be cleaned of the toxic mess that the Milgari left.”

  Frig smiled. “I cannot tell you how many times I have longed for the swamps and bogs of our world, Admiral. I remember the summers as a young boy, before the Milgari came, when the irantids would emerge from their casings and skim across the waters of my district. Such a delight and such a delicacy. They would skim right into your waiting hands.”

  The Admiral leaned back. “Ah, the irantids—I had not thought of those celebrations in years. Yes, you must join us in our efforts to restore our species, Bartel. Our people need you.”

  Frig wiped back a tear. “I would like nothing better, Admiral. But today, I must continue on the journey with Don Grange. The Humans have sacrificed much for not only the Gambit, but all species in this galaxy. We need to find the Humans, Admiral. And the Duke—he must be brought to justice, or this war will manifest itself yet again in a few centuries, or a few thousand years. Should the Duke be found, perhaps I will return then, Admiral.”

  As we continued our discussion with the Admiral and the other Gambit leadership, we powered up the bot remaining in our hold and had it build another bot. Instructions were then given to the Gambits on how to best make use of the new technology. If they did indeed one day return to Gambrel, an army of several billion bots might make the toxic cleanup and terraforming of Gambrel a reality.

  Chapter 3

  We spent the next two days at the Gambit colony asking questions of Quan. His response times had dropped to five minutes per question.

  I spoke. “So, you are telling me the Duke has the ability to transfer several billion people at once, from one beginning point that could be a galaxy away, to an endpoint in another galaxy? That just seems like an impossible task to not only power, but to manage. How is that possible?”

  Five minutes later, Quan replied, “The brown dwarf complex is—”

  I raised my hands from the table in front of me. “The brown dwarf complex is what?”

  Quan again replied, “The brown dwarf complex is—”

  I rolled my eyes. “Oh, come on! You can’t just leave us hanging like that! The complex is what?”

  Quan hesitated as he searched for the memories needed to finalize the statement. “I am sorry, Sir, it seems the relevant memory locations with that information are blank. That information is part of a block that no longer has data.”

  I threw my arms in the air as I stood. “Are you kidding me! We finally get to the good stuff, and that is what was erased?”

  Frig spoke. “Dr. Touchstone did mention that some portions of his memory had been wiped. Perhaps we can rebuild that portion. Quan, access all memories that refer to the brown dwarf complex. Catalog and cross-reference those memories in an attempt to construct an understanding of that physical location. Please provide a time estimate for this task.”

  Several seconds later, Quan replied, “The task at hand will require six hours to index and cross-reference.”

  I replied, “Well, that’s not too bad.”

  Quan continued, “The cataloging and reconstruction of the physical location, if successful, will require approximately three days, eighteen hours.”

  I turned around to face Frig. “Well, looks like we have four days to kill. Why don’t we see if we can assist with the construction of the bots and replicators here.”

  Frig spoke. “Sir, if you don’t mind, I would prefer using this time to study the DNA injection and its continued effects on your mind and body. Perhaps I could get you to take an intelligence test, for comparative purposes.”

  I laughed. “Sorry, I avoided those things like a plague as a kid, and I am not taking one now. I’m sure you would wave my score in front of my face whenever you were feeling snarky.”

  Frig shook his head. “I’m sorry, Sir, but I do not need an intelligence test to tell me that—”

  I held up my hand. “Forget it! I’ll give you all the blood samples you want, but I’m not taking any test.”

  I walked out of the Swift with a smirk on my face. I had no problem with taking the test; I just saw the opportunity to turn Frig’s screws, so I took it. After hours of slow responses from Quan, I was in need of a distraction.

  The bots and replicators were well on their way to providing a capable and efficient workforce for the Gambits. Only a few hours into the project, I returned to the Swift.

  I sat down in the pilot’s chair and crossed my arms. “OK, let’s have it. Gimme the test. Those bots aren’t in need of my help.”

  The next hour was spent answering questions and poking at diagrams on my holo-display. When the test was complete, I turned to Frig. “OK, what’s the damage?”

  Frig swiped at several displays before transferring the score to my display. “Based on the Intelligence Quotient testing that has been the Human standard for more than a thousand years, you are rated at 134. While you were testing, I ran an algorithm on some of the recorded conversations we have had over the past ten years in an attempt to get an estimate of your prior score. It would appear as though you have gained eighteen points, Sir. A significant increase.”

  I replied, “Great, so I’m a genius now?”

  Frig laughed. “I read up on this test, and most experts place that number at 140 or more. Perhaps if we gave you another injection?”

  I half smiled. “Ha-ha. Why did I know you were going to throw this in my face?”

  Frig shook his head. “I am sorry, Sir. Regardless, an IQ of 134 places you in the top ninety-eighth percentile. Perhaps not a genius, but highly intelligent.”

  I replied, “So, what does this all really have to do with the injection? Scoring slightly higher on some test is not a game changer. What else beside this making me feel good has this injection done?”

  Frig pulled up the analysis of my blood sample. “It would appear that the DNA strands that govern your cell division have lengthened significantly.”

  I laughed. “So, what, I’m going to get taller?”

  Frig shook his head. “Please, Sir. You are not doing your IQ justice with statements such as that.”

  I replied, “Hey, it was a joke. So, can I guess that longer DNA strands mean a l
onger life?”

  Frig posted a diagram on my holo-display. “Sir, the reference to length in this instance is not so much a physical attribute as an associative one. The ends of your DNA strands have a structure that is termed a cap. Each time a cell divides, the cap becomes thinner. When the cap becomes too thin to support cell division, that cell will no longer divide. The injection thickens the caps on your DNA, Sir.”

  I nodded. “So, my cells can continue to divide for a much longer time, leading to a longer life. That’s how Sarah Rogers lived to be over three hundred.”

  Frig smiled. “Precisely, Sir. In addition, the health regulation and nutritional benefits of that BGS suit will add to those years as well.”

  I ran my fingers through my hair. “Well, if I can keep this thicker hair during that time, I am all for it.”

  I turned towards Frig and changed topics. “Hey, the power packs in these arms and legs—they are good for about ninety days of normal use. Is there any way to change that? Maybe with an upgrade to one of these cesium reactors?”

  Frig sat motionless for several seconds. “I believe the cesium reactor to be very scalable, Sir. Give me a few minutes to ponder that thought.”

  As Frig worked his wonders with the Swift’s computer, I turned my thoughts to daydreams about my wife. We were soon walking into a towering building in a city on Earth. The clones that Sarah Rogers had left behind welcomed us home. We walked the streets as grand celebrations happened all around us as all Humans were welcomed back.

  Frig spoke. “Sir. Hello, Sir.”

  After a tap on my shoulder, I turned around. “What?”

  Frig spoke. “I scaled the reactor down to the size of a fingertip. After adding significant shielding, I believe we can manufacture a power cell that would supply power to a leg, under heavy load, for eighty years, Sir.”

  I replied, “Eighty years? That is fantastic! When can we have that ready?”

  Frig shook his head. “Before you get ahead of yourself, Sir, a design will have to be put in place that will fit the reactor and its shielding in the same space the current power cell occupies. Once a cell is produced, we will of course have to conduct thorough testing of its ability to withstand shock, vibration, extreme temperatures, and a variety of other factors that will qualify it as safe to use.”

  I offered a sarcastic frown. “Always have to take the fun out of it, don’t you.”

  I held up my hand in a gesture to stop the coming response. “Hold your opinions for someone who will listen. You are busy, so I’m heading out to see if there is anything out there I can assist your people with.”

  The Gambits were excited about the technology we were sharing. The bots, once a sufficient number had been constructed, would be building a cesium fusion reactor large enough to power the entire colony. The lives of the Gambit colonists were about to drastically change for the better. After many years of struggle, it would be a welcome change.

  I watched for several hours and then returned to the Swift, plopping down in my chair. “I’m bored, Frig. Give me something to do.”

  Frig looked around with a scowl. “I don’t know, Sir. Perhaps you could polish the knob on the throttle lever?”

  I laughed. “OK, I’ll quit bugging you. I suppose I can dig through the Defender’s archives for a bit.”

  I began to browse through the material from Sarah Rogers’s past. Other than the BHD, the Humans had encounters with other black hole weapons, including a giant-sized weapon that was able to direct the gravitational pull of a one-meter-wide black hole. The weapon was used to destroy planets by sucking away their atmosphere as well as their tillable soils and water. When the weapon was destroyed, an entire planet near its location was drawn in and destroyed as well.

  I turned to Frig. “Sorry to bug you, but there is some fascinating stuff in the records from the Defender. One species was able to contain a meter-wide black hole. A planet killer.”

  Frig replied, “Yes, I saw that reference as well. I believe that technology to be beyond our grasp at the moment. I cannot see any good coming from a weapon as such. It is destructive on too broad a scale.”

  I nodded. “I agree with you on that. The only issue I see with it is that since someone was able to figure out how to do this before, that just means it will happen again.”

  A chime then sounded on Frig’s display. “Quan should have a response for us at any moment, Sir. The processor usage is at a level that is generally reached just before an answer is given.”

  I walked back and sat at the small table that provided a platform for Quan. I flipped the switch, and the audio speaker crackled.

  Seconds later, the android spoke. “The brown dwarf complex is located in the Thyris star system.”

  I held up my hands. “And where is the Thyris star system?”

  The android cube was silent for five minutes as I took heavy breaths and resisted smashing it with my fist.

  Quan spoke. “The Thyris star system is located in the Tadpole galaxy.”

  I turned to Frig. “Do we know where that is?”

  Frig turned back to his display. “I am cross-referencing the name with our archives as well as those from the Defender. Here, the Tadpole galaxy, named for its appearance, is located approximately 420 million light-years from Earth, in the constellation Draco.”

  I sat back. “Four hundred twenty million light-years. How many jumps is that?”

  Frig replied, “We are looking at approximately five hundred thousand jumps, Sir. An approximate travel time of seventy days.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Great, seventy days stuck in here with you and Quan. Is there anything we need to stock or prepare?”

  Frig shook his head. “We are fully stocked, Sir. With these suits and the cesium reactor, we could go for several years without resupply, if required to do so.”

  I raised my hand. “Hey, seventy days with you will be more than enough, thank you. Now, we should go out and say our goodbyes. We may not be back this way for a long time.”

  Frig had enjoyed the time with his own people, but we had a mission to do, and he was not going to abandon his adopted species. Even though the Gambits were of his kind, they were largely strangers. We set off for the Tadpole galaxy several hours later.

  I spoke. “OK, Quan, where in the Tadpole galaxy is the Thyris system?”

  After the customary delay, Quan answered. “I do not have data on the location of the Thyris system. All memories related to the Tadpole galaxy do not have location data associated with them.”

  Frig spoke. “I believe it would be safe to assume that the first memories targeted for erasure by the Duke were those related to his main base or bases.”

  I continued, “What galaxy would you have taken the Humans to?”

  Quan replied, “I do not have that information.”

  I began to get agitated. “And why do you not have that information? Wouldn’t you know?”

  After five minutes of an excruciating wait, Quan answered. “The final location for the War of Wars is determined at the time that all participants have their warring species ready to fight.”

  Frig turned to comment, and I held up my hand. “Wait, what? What participants? Are you saying there are others out there doing the same thing the Duke is doing, pitting one species against another? And explain to me this War of Wars.”

  Silence ruled the hold of the Swift for another short time. “The participants are myself, King Koswal, Emperor Belon, and His Supreme Master Tardette. Each participant controls five feeder galaxies and one trimming galaxy. One hundred twenty-eight species are selected at an early stage of development in each galaxy. Participants are to offer minimal assistance to the growth and development of the species. This is considered the incubation period.

  “Once a species has developed space travel, they are pitted against other species in an attempt to nurture the species best suited for war. When a full feeder galaxy war, or perhaps a feeder galaxy section war, is won, the species is then transf
erred to the trimming galaxy.

  “When a species arrives in a trimming galaxy, they have no knowledge of where they came from. Their memories of everyday living, family, friends, and all other things are intact. Only memories related to their origin and any recent battles have been suppressed. They are each given the basic means needed for survival. War can come quickly for some at this stage.

  “The trimming galaxy allows the best species of a participant to fight against each other. The participants are allowed to interact with their trimming species, but not in a direct manner. When a single winner emerges from the trimming galaxy, they are sent to the War of Wars galaxy, which is selected at random by the participants at the time of the event.”

  I spoke. “So, by winning, we moved on to the next round? Are there any more battles after this War of Wars?”

  Quan replied, “The victorious species is allowed to thrive and prosper on a single planet until such time as a new War of Wars is to be fought.”

  I leaned back in my chair and crossed my arms. “What happens to the victor species when a new War of Wars is set?”

  Quan’s processors worked hard to reconstruct the neural pathways needed for the answer. “At such time as a new War of Wars is set, the prior victor is eliminated. A complete purge of the species and all of their technologies and records is performed.”

  I sat up. “How often does the War of Wars occur?”

  Quan replied, “The time between Wars of Wars has been as short as fifty-seven years and as long as eight thousand four hundred twenty-two years.”

  Frig asked a question. “Are there ever any species that are not of the selected feeder species that come to power? And, how are they dealt with?”

  Quan was silent as he searched his memories. “Interloper species are met with an immediate purge. As are those who grow powerful within a feeder or trimming galaxy. Only selected feeder species are allowed to grow strong.”

  Frig spoke. “Sir, under these rules, the cloned Humans should have been eliminated. I can only guess that because they hid themselves away instead of fighting, they are still alive today.”